Eschatology in the Making: Mark, Matthew and the Didache (Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series)

If the expectations of the early church concerning the return of Christ and the End of the World were disappointed, the magnitude of the disappointment and the form in which it was expressed do not seem to fit with the expectations of modern scholars. This study questions both the idea that the delay of Christ's return - the parousia - was the primary factor shaping the development of eschatological expectation in the early church, and the linearity of the models used to understand the development of early Christian eschatology. Vicky Balabanski argues that Matthew's Gospel shows a more imminent expectation than Mark's, and that there were fluctuations in eschatological expectation caused by factors within these early communities and those of the Didache. She traces these fluctuations and offers some new interpretative keys to Mark 13, Matthew 24 and 25 and Didache 16, as well as some vivid and original historical reconstructions.

SOCIETY FOR NEW TESTAMENT STUDIES MONOGRAPH SERIES General editor: Richard Bauckham

97 ESCHATOLOGY IN THE MAKING

Eschatology in the making Mark, Matthew and the Didache VICKY BALABANSKI Parkin-Wesley College, Adelaide College of Divinity, Flinders University, South Australia

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS Cambridge, New York, Melbourne, Madrid, Cape Town, Singapore, Sao Paulo Cambridge University Press The Edinburgh Building, Cambridge CB2 2RU, UK Published in the United States of America by Cambridge University Press, New York www.cambridge.org Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9780521591379 © Vicky Balabanski 1997 This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception and to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements, no reproduction of any part may take place without the written permission of Cambridge University Press. First published 1997 This digitally printed first paperback version 2005 A catalogue recordfor this publication is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloguing in Publication data Balabanski, Vicky. Eschatology in the making : Mark, Matthew and the Didache / Vicky Balabanski. p. cm. - (Monograph series/Society for New Testament Studies 97) Revision of the author's thesis (doctoral) — University of Melbourne, 1993. Includes bibliographical references (p. ) and indexes. ISBN 0 521 59137 6 1. Eschatology - Biblical teaching. 2. Bible. N.T. Mark XIII - Criticism, interpretation, etc. 3. Bible. N.T. Matthew XXIV-XXV - Criticism, interpretation, etc. 4. Eschatology — History of doctrines — Early church, c. 30—600. 5. Didache. I. Title. II. Series: Monograph series (Society for New Testament Studies): 97. BS2585.6.E7B35 1997 236'.09'015-dc21 96^8934 CIP ISBN-13 978-0-521-59137-9 hardback ISBN-10 0-521-59137-6 hardback ISBN-13 978-0-521-01890-6 paperback ISBN-10 0-521-01890-0 paperback

Radi and Helene Balabanski

CONTENTS

Preface List of abbreviations and note on texts

PaSe

Introduction 1.

2.

3.

An imminent End? Models for understanding eschatological development in the first century 1. The problem of the delay of the parousia: a modern construct? 2. Three recent contributions to the debate 3. The approach adopted in this study

xn

i xv 1 4 4 10 22

Matthew 25:1-13 as a window on eschatological change 1. A. Puig i Tarrech's interpretation 2. Matt. 25:5-7a as a pre-Matthean interpolation 3. Does the hypothesis solve the 'problems' of Matt. 25:1-13? 4. Verses 5-7a: more than one interpolator, or a unity? 5. How strong is the evidence for Matthean redaction in Matt. 25:1-13? 6. Matt. 25:5-7a and the development of early Christian eschatology

24 26 29

Mark 13: eschatological expectation and the Jewish War 1. Methodological considerations 2. Indispensible within the narrative framework: a literary examination of Mark 13 in context 3. Questions of genre 4. Structure of Mark 13:5b-37 5. Chronology of the discourse 6. Tradition and redaction

55 55

40 45 46 48

58 70 72 75 77 IX

x

Contents 7. 8. 9.

4.

5.

6.

A Judean oracle behind Mark 13:14ff ? An apocalyptic source? The Sitz im Leben of Mark 13

The Judean flight oracle (Mark 13:14ff) and the Pella flight tradition 1. The debate about the historicity of the Pella flight tradition 2. The evidence of Eusebius 3. The evidence of Epiphanius 4. Is there a link between the Pella flight tradition and the Judean flight oracle? 5. Circumstances under which a flight to Pella may have been possible Matthew 24: eschatological expectation after the Jewish War 1. Is Matthew 23 part of the eschatological discourse? 2. The prominence of eschatology in Matthew's Gospel 3. The function of Matthew's eschatology 4. The relationship between the present and the future Kingdom of Heaven in Matthew: a comparison with Berakoth 61b 5. Matthew 24: is there a chronological sequence? 6. How can the additions to 24:20 (f| (j)i)yf| Djicov and |ir|86 aaPP&TOp) be explained? 7. Precedents for the two-sequence interpretation 8. Evidence for a literary technique using multiple chronological sequences: Revelation 9. Two sequences in Matthew, but not in Mark? 10. Did Matthew expect an imminent End? 11. Matthew compared with other Jewish apocalyptic responses to the Jewish War Didache 16 as a development in Christian eschatology 1. Methodological divergence between 'Didachists' and 'New Testament scholars' 2. Divergence of criteria upon which source interrelationship is assessed 3. W.-D. Kohler's discussion of Didache 16

88 92 97 101 101 105 109 112 122 135 135 139 143 148 153 162 165 167 171 173 175 180 183 185 189

Contents 4. 5. 6.

Is it the case that the Didachist did not adopt the structure/internal logic of Matthew? 'The Didache contains many traditions which have no synoptic parallel' Didache 16 as a further development in early Christian eschatology

xi 191 195 197

Conclusion

206

Bibliography

210

Index of modern authors Index of biblical and other ancient texts Subject index

228 231 240

PREFACE

This study is a revised version of my doctoral thesis which was submitted to the University of Melbourne in February 1993, a week before I took up my lecturing responsibilities at Parkin-Wesley College, South Australia, and some eight weeks before the birth of my second child. I wish to acknowledge my gratitude to my supervisors, examiners, colleagues and, not least, to my family for enabling both the study itself to come to fruition, and the present revision to be undertaken. It was with the encouragement of my supervisors Professor Frank Moloney and Dr Geoff Jenkins that I embarked on this project after the completion of my honours degrees in Arts and Theology. I am most grateful for their guidance, insightful criticisms and confidence in me. The choice of this area of studies came about through my fascination with the Gospels and a sense that the shape of the earliest Christianities was much more diverse than meets the eye. My studies took me to Gottingen, Germany, where I particularly appreciated the stimulation of the 1987 SNTS Conference. In 1987/88 I spent five months in Jerusalem, studying in the fine library of the Ecole Biblique et Archeologique Fran£aise, supported by a Robert Maddox Award. My thanks in this period are due particularly to the late Revd Dr Gilbert Sinden SSM and Revd Tom Brown SSM who welcomed my husband and me into their home for the duration of our stay in Jerusalem and offered us insight into the Holy Land. In 1988/9 a Swiss Government Scholarship enabled me to pursue my studies in Berne, Switzerland, under the very capable and gracious supervision of Revd Professor Ulrich Luz. It was there that the present study took shape, and I am particularly grateful to Professor Luz and to the Revd Isabelle Noth for their encouragement, insight and friendship. On returning to Melbourne with our daughter Anna only a few weeks old, it took another three and a half years to complete the xin

xiv

Preface

study. Towards the end of that period, and expecting our daughter Laura, I took up a lectureship in New Testament at Parkin-Wesley College. I am very grateful to my colleagues for their unfailing support, and to the College Council for enabling this period of study leave in Jerusalem. The thesis was examined by Professors Graham Stanton and Jerome Murphy O'Connor, for whose encouraging and helpful comments I am very grateful. My thanks are also due to Dr Margaret Thrall, former General Editor of the SNTS Monograph Series, whose perceptive criticisms have brought about many improvements to this book. My final acknowledgement is to the incalculable contribution of my family. Anna and Laura have helped me focus my energies, and have kept me firmly anchored to the joys and challenges of life. My sister, Dr Joanna Barlow, read the manuscripts and offered every encouragement along the way. And most gratitude of all is due to my husband, Peter, without whose support, patience and practical assistance this study would not have been written. I dedicate this book to my parents, who both died while I was still a child, but whose mark is tangible in all that I do.

ABBREVIATIONS AND NOTE ON TEXTS

All abbreviations conform to the standard set out in the Instructions for Contributors', Journal of Biblical Literature 107/3 (1988), 579-96. This covers periodicals, reference works, serials, and names of biblical and other ancient writings. Where titles occur that are not covered in that article, I write them out in full. I have also followed its guidelines for transliteration of ancient languages. All citations from the Bible in English are from the New Revised Standard Version except where stated otherwise. AB AnBib AusBR BAGD BDR BETL BGBE Bib BibLeb BJRL BR BZ BZAW CBQ ConBNT EKKNT ETL

Anchor Bible Analecta Biblica Australian Biblical Review W. Bauer, W. F. Arndt, F. W. Gingrich, and F. W. Danker, Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament F. Blass, A. Debrunner, and F. Rehkopf, Grammatik des neutestamentlichen Griechisch Bibliotheca ephemeridum theologicarum lovaniensium Beitrage zur Geschichte der biblischen Exegese Biblica Bibel und Leben Bulletin of the John Ry lands University Library of Manchester Biblical Research Biblische Zeitschrift Beihefte zur Zeitschrift fur die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft Catholic Biblical Quarterly Coniectanea Biblica, New Testament Evangelisch-katholischer Kommentar zum Neuen Testament Ephemerides theologicae xv

xvi

List of abbreviations

EvT EWNT ExpTim FRLANT HSS HTKNT HTR Int JAC JBL JR JRelS JSJ JSNT JSOT JTS LB LSJ NICNT NovT NTAbh NTF NTS OBS PEQ PG RB RelSRev ResQ RQ RSR RSV SANT SBL SBLDS

Evangelische Theologie H. Balz and G. Schneider, eds., Exegetisches Wb'rterbuch zum Neuen Testament Expository Times Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments Harvard Semitic Studies Herders theologischer Kommentar zum Neuen Testament Harvard Theological Review Interpretation Jahrbuch fur Antike und Christentum Journal of Biblical Literature Journal of Religion Journal of Religious Studies Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic and Roman Period Journal for the Study of the New Testament Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Journal of Theological Studies Linguistica Biblica Liddell-Scott-Jones, Greek-English Lexicon New International Commentary on the New Testament Novum Testamentum Neutestamentliche Abhandlungen Neutestamentliche Forschungen New Testament Studies Osterreichische biblische Studien Palestine Exploration Quarterly J. Migne, Patrologia Graeca Revue biblique Religious Studies Review Restoration Quarterly Romische Quartalschrift fur christliche Altertumskunde und Kirchengeschichte Recherches de science religieuse Revised Standard Version Studien zum Alten und Neuen Testament Society of Biblical Literature Society of Biblical Literature Dissertation Series

List of abbreviations SE SEA SJT SNTSMS ST StPatr StudBib Tbl TDNT TF THKNT TLZ TTZ TU TynB TZ UBSGNT USQR Vcaro WBC WUNT ZNW ZST

xvi

Studia Evangelica Svensk exegetisk drsbok Scottish Journal of Theology Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series Studia theologica Studia Patristica Studia Biblica Theologische Blatter G. Kittel and G. Friedrich, eds., Theological Dictionary of the New Testament Theologische Forschung Theologischer Handkommentar zum Neuen Testament Theologische Literaturzeitung Trierer theologische Zeitschrift Texte und Untersuchungen Tyndale Bulletin Theologische Zeitschrift United Bible Societies Greek New Testament Union Seminary Quarterly Review Verbum caro Word Biblical Commentary Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament Zeitschriftfiir die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft Zeitschriftfiir systematische Theologie

INTRODUCTION

It is a most intriguing fact that the delay of Jesus' parousia did not represent much more of a crisis for the first Christians than actually was the case. Though doubtless the earliest community was confronted by a serious problem in the non-fulfilment of their expectation of an imminent end, nevertheless it cannot be denied that the community survived the delay of the parousia without a substantial break. The question as to how the first Christians came to terms with the delay of the end of the world and the parousia without bitter disappointment and without sacrificing their eschatological hope still requires careful historical and theological consideration. l Ever since the 'rediscovery' in the late nineteenth century of the significance of eschatology for Jesus and the early Christian movement, the problem of the delay of the parousia has intrigued scholars. If the eschatological expectations of the early church were disappointed, the magnitude of the disappointment and the form in which it was expressed do not seem to fit with our own expectations. Although there are indications within the New Testament canon that Christian communities did grapple with a disappointment in expectation, nowhere are there echoes of the sort of crisis that we of the late second millennium would have expected. It seems that our models for understanding the changes in early Christian eschatological expectation have not yet been adequate to the task of accounting for what is in fact reflected in the documents themselves. I do not set out to give a comprehensive analysis in this study of the various nineteenth- and twentieth-century models which seek to 1

Bornkamm, 'Verzogerung', 116 (translation mine).

2

Eschatology in the making

account for the developments in early Christian eschatological expectation, nor yet to propose a more adequate model and then test its validity. Rather, after taking account of the range of possible interpretations and evaluating several recent contributions (chapter 1), I undertake a series of exegetical studies of material from the Gospels of Mark and Matthew, and from the Didache. I accept as a basis the two-source hypothesis. On this basis, the material selected for chapters 3, 5 and 6 is examined as a 'progression': Mark 13 was used and reshaped in Matthew's eschatological discourse, and Didache 16 in turn (I conclude) knew and reshaped the Matthean discourse. Such a 'progression', or reworking, of a particular set of traditions enables us to trace the way in which the communities reflected upon their eschatological situation. The way in which these various communities received and reinterpreted these traditions gives us some insight into the ways in which eschatological expectation varied and fluctuated. If one comes to these traditions expecting them to reflect a particular development, such as a progressive waning in the expectation of an imminent End, one may be surprised. What I find in the course of this study is, in fact, more a fluctuation than a linear development: Matthew shows a more imminent expectation of the End than does Mark. Rather than seeking to account for this by concluding that the two-source hypothesis ought to be superseded by the Griesbach or another source hypothesis, I suggest that this calls into question the strong linearity of our models. Although in theory one might expect that the passing of time led to the waning of hopes for an imminent End, in reality the historical contexts of the various communities seem to have led to a greater variation in Naherwartung than our theories would suggest. In addition to the studies tracing the reception and reinterpretation of the eschatological material of Mark 13, I have found it useful to examine two related areas. The first is the eschatological development in the Matthean community as reflected in a special Matthean tradition, Matt. 25:1-13. Because the findings of this study give some insight into the processes of early eschatological reflection well prior to the events of 70 CE, this is included as the first exegetical chapter, chapter 2. The order of the chapters is thus in some sense chronological. The second related area forms the basis of chapter 4, namely the historical implications of my study of Mark 13. My approach is characterized by the endeavour to deal with eschatological development not primarily as a 'history of

Introduction

3

ideas', but as grounded in historical particularities, the most farreaching of which were the implications of the Jewish War and the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 CE. Thus chapter 4 pursues the historical circumstances of the Markan material. Within the scope of this study, it has not been possible to examine all the passages in the two Gospels which bear upon their respective eschatologies. It has been necessary to draw selectively from a range of materials in order to demonstrate that the developments in eschatology in the first century of Christianity cannot be adequately explained by a blanket theory, but must be seen as expressions of the historical particularities of the communities in question. The intriguing questions of Jesus' own eschatological expectations and the ways in which the early churches upheld or diverged from them would warrant studies in their own right.2 These questions have been deemed to be beyond the scope of the present monograph. A variety of methodologies is represented in the following chapters, ranging from source and form criticism, redaction and narrative criticism to questions of historical criticism. The methodologies have, of course, been chosen according to the nature of the questions at hand, and I am confident that the reader will find the range neither baffling nor inconsistent. At a time when historical and literary studies of the New Testament have become polarized, I hope that this study can make a small contribution towards their integration. 2

A recent contribution in this area is Witherington's Jesus, Paul and the End of the World.

AN IMMINENT END? MODELS FOR UNDERSTANDING ESCHATOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT IN THE FIRST CENTURY

1. The problem of the delay of the parousia: a modern construct? There are indications in the canon of the New Testament and in early extra-canonical sources that the delay of the parousia of Christ presented the early church with an eschatological and theological problem. In modern scholarship the delay of Christ's return and the presumed disappointment it engendered has been seen as a primary factor, and in some cases as the primary factor, in the development of Christian eschatology. The systematic theologian M. Werner stated in his work The Formation of Christian Dogma that 'the longer the non-fulfilment of the Parousia of Christ and the final events connected therewith continued, the weaker became the conviction that the End of the world would come in the Apostolic Age and that the Death and Resurrection of Jesus had, correspondingly, a fundamental eschatological significance'.1 The problem is thus seen not simply as one of eschatology, but of the fundamentals of christology. It is perhaps not surprising, therefore, that this problem has received much attention from biblical and systematic scholars over the past century. I will begin by giving an overview of ways in which modern scholarship has sought to deal with the challenge of this problem: by embracing it as the exegetical and systematic key to developments in the early church, by rejecting it as such, or by seeking alternative approaches. The modern development of studies in New Testament eschatology began with J. Weiss' work Jesus' Proclamation of the Kingdom of God. In it, he sought to make clear the profoundly eschato1

Werner, Formation, 31.

An imminent End? Models for eschatological development 5

logical nature of Jesus' proclamation of the Kingdom of God. Although Weiss' position was foreshadowed to some extent by O. Schmoller and E. Issel and, earlier still, by the work of H. S. Reimarus,2 it was not until Weiss' polemically stated thesis that the significance of a future eschatological Kingdom of God was borne in upon German scholarship which had until then been characterized by Ritschlian liberal humanism. Weiss set out to show that the generally accepted religious-ethical understanding of the Kingdom of God had stripped away its original eschatological-apocalyptic meaning, and that 'the Kingdom of God is a radically superworldly entity which stands in diametric opposition to this world. This is to say that there can be no talk of an innerworldly development of the Kingdom of God in the mind of Jesus!'3 Weiss sought to demonstrate exegetically that the Kingdom Jesus expected was not both future and present, but exclusively future. This presented the German theological establishment, which was already struggling with D. F. Strauss' challenge to the historicity of Jesus,4 with a fundamental problem: if it was indeed Jesus' expectation that the Kingdom of God was exclusively a future entity which was to be established at the latest within a generation,5 what can faith make of a Jesus who was so radically mistaken? Yet even in posing the problem, Weiss stepped back from the brink, claiming that we do not share this expectation, but can be joyfully confident that this world is the arena in which God's purposes are worked out.6 It was Weiss' work that gave A. Schweitzer the impetus to formulate his controversial ideas about the eschatology of Jesus and his disciples,7 and to advocate a programme which he called 'konsequente Eschatologie', rendered in English as 'consistent' or 'thoroughgoing eschatology'. He defined this programme in his book Out of my Life and Thought as follows: For the historical understanding of the life of J e s u s . . . it is necessary to think out all the consequences of the fact that He did actually live in the eschatological, Messianic thought world of late Judaism, and to try to comprehend His resolutions and actions not by means of considerations 2 3 5 7

Schmoller, Die Lehre vom Reiche Gottes; Issel, Die Lehre vom Reiche Gottes im Neuen Testament; Reimarus, Von dem Zwecke Jesu und seiner Ju'nger. 4 Weiss, Proclamation, 114. See Strauss, Life. 6 Weiss, Proclamation, 91. Ibid., 135. Schweitzer, Messianitdts- und Leidensgeheimnis, and more comprehensively in Quest.

6

Eschatology in the making drawn from ordinary psychology, but solely by motives provided by His eschatological expectations.8

Schweitzer took up not only Weiss', but also Strauss' challenge in his thoroughgoing eschatological reading of the Gospels of Mark and Matthew in particular. In his opinion, this reading made the historicity of these Gospels apparent. Schweitzer set out to show that a historical - that is a thoroughgoing or consistent eschatological - reading of Jesus leaves us with a person who is to our time 'a stranger and an enigma'.9 Yet he, too, stepped back from the brink which such a conclusion might approach by recourse to a reality which does not belong to historical discourse: 'Jesus means something to our world because a mighty spiritual force streams forth from Him and flows though our time also. This fact can neither be shaken nor confirmed by any historical discovery. It is the solid foundation of Christianity.'10 Perhaps not surprisingly, others did not share Schweitzer's confidence that this constituted a solid foundation for Christianity. An ahistorical claim may not be sufficient to recover the Jesus of faith when the historical reality seems to point to a Messiah who was mistaken in his expectation. The problem lay not so much with the apocalyptic expectation per se - Jesus was after all part of the thought-world of late Jewish apocalyptic. Rather, the problem lay with the non-fulfilment of the parousia expectation; even if Christians of former centuries could make light of such a delay or indeed fail to recognize it for what it was, modern theology demanded that the problem be reckoned with. This, then, is the background against which the numerous twentieth-century studies of early Christian eschatology were written. Those theologians who rejected Schweitzer's programme of 'consistent eschatology' argued against the claim, originally made by Weiss, that the Kingdom of God could not be conceived of as both present and future. If Jesus' understanding of the Kingdom was both present and future, the 'mistakenness' of the timing of its future advent is relativized and thus alleviated. For the theologians who embraced Schweitzer's programme of 'consistent eschatology', the delay (or non-fulfilment) of the par8 9 10

Schweitzer, Life and Thought, 43. Schweitzer, Quest, 397. The challenge of Schweitzer's position is still with us, as is shown by Witherington, Jesus, 20-2. Schweitzer, Quest, 397.

An imminent End? Models for eschatological development 7

ousia was understood as the overriding issue, not only for the twentieth century, but necessarily also for the whole of church history, and in particular for the development of the early church. Schweitzer gave the lead by arguing that the real driving force behind the whole history of Christianity has been the need to 'deeschatologize' it in the face of the non-occurrence of the parousia.11 Thus the non-occurrence of the parousia had become an important issue for twentieth-century theology, but it was not seen in the first instance as a problem specific to the modern age. In fact, as the preceding quotation shows, it was understood as an interpretative tool for examining theological developments of the first century. M. Werner applied this to the development of doctrine in the early church, first in his volume entitled The Formation of Christian Dogma and later in his more detailed work in two volumes entitled Der protestantische Weg des Glaubens. Another notable systematic exponent of 'consistent eschatology' was F. Buri, with his work Die Bedeutung der neutestamentlichen Eschatologie.

Exegetically, the concept of the centrality of the delay of the parousia in shaping early Christian eschatology was applied by H. Conzelmann to Luke's Gospel.12 E. Grasser then studied the synoptic Gospels and Acts from this perspective.13 However, Grasser did not altogether align himself with Schweitzer's reconstruction of Jesus' eschatological development, because he saw it as questionable from a form-critical point of view. Moreover, Grasser was of the opinion that the exponents of 'consistent eschatology' have given too much weight to the factor of the delay of the parousia by overlooking other factors which enabled the early church to come to terms with the delay, such as gnostic ideas.14 Even so, Grasser proceeded to exegete the synoptic Gospels and Acts using the delay of the parousia as the hermeneutical key to distinguish layers of authentic dominical tradition from early Christian formulations and to determine the age of a particular tradition. In doing so, he created a hermeneutical circle which is very similar to that of Schweitzer and Werner, even if somewhat more agnostic as regards Jesus' own expectation. Thus it was that much exegetical and systematic study of the 11 12

13

Ibid., 35*. Conzelmann, The Theology of St. Luke. Conzelmann had taken up the idea as it had been put forward in an article by Vielhauer, 'Zum "Paulinismus" der Apostelgeschichte'. 14 Grasser, Das Problem des Parusieverzogerung. Ibid., 9-10.

8

Eschatology in the making

New Testament proceeded on the basis of the theory that the early church was profoundly shaped by the disappointment it experienced in its eschatological expectation. There were, however, scholars who questioned whether the early church had undergone the sort of 'crisis' in eschatology which modern scholarship sought to trace. One such scholar was G. Bornkamm, with whose words I opened the introduction. In his view, the New Testament documents do not reflect the bitter disappointment in expectation which one might have expected; the fact that the early church survived the non-occurrence of the parousia without a significant break and without relinquishing its eschatological hope seemed to him a puzzle which had not yet been fully solved. Other scholars, such as E. von Dobschiitz and C. H. Dodd, saw the problem of the delay of the parousia as only an apparent one, and argued that Jesus' own eschatology was focussed upon the present reality of the Kingdom of God rather than upon a future coming. In Dodd's view, although Jesus used the language of apocalyptic eschatology, this was really meant to describe a higher reality: It appears that while Jesus employed the traditional symbolism of apocalypse to indicate the "otherworldly" or absolute character of the Kingdom of God, He used parables to enforce and illustrate the idea that the Kingdom of God had come upon men [sic] there and then. The inconceivable had happened: history had become the vehicle of the eternal; the absolute was clothed with flesh and blood.15 To Dodd, then, the historical Jesus was by no means mistaken; rather, he was using the language of symbolism. This was not, in Dodd's opinion, fully understood by the early church, which then reinterpreted the 'apocalyptic' predictions in terms of its own developing eschatology.16 By taking as his hermeneutical key the sayings which speak of the Kingdom of God as present reality, he subordinated the futureorientated sayings to his interpretation of Jesus' realized eschatology. Accordingly, he resolved the eschatological tension between the 'already' and the 'not yet' by portraying it as only a seeming tension, a lack of understanding on the part of the early church. 15

Dodd, Parables, 197.

16

Ibid., 102.

An imminent End? Models for eschatological development 9

There are a number of criticisms which one might level against such a resolution: (i) The early church is understood to have first re-eschatologized Jesus' Kingdom theology, and then later, given the (misguided) assumption of the delay of the parousia, to have proceeded to reverse the process and de-eschatologize it. This postulates two diametrically opposed tendencies in the early church within a remarkably short space of time, which, though not impossible, is problematic. (ii) Dodd sought the 'solid foundation of Christianity', to use Schweitzer's phrase, in a Jesus who so transcended his own thought-world that his own understanding of the presence of the Kingdom of God in his own person and ministry was widely misunderstood and reinterpreted. (iii) Dodd's theory bears some similarity to R. Bultmann's programme of 'demythologizing', which, by means of existentialist (Heideggerian) categories, sought to reinterpret such myths as the apocalyptic world view in terms of human constructs rather than as a scientific representation of external reality. One suspects that what Bultmann endeavoured to do in systematic theology, Dodd attempted exegetically. However, what for Bultmann was a distinction between ancient and modern thought-worlds seems to be for Dodd a distinction between Jesus and his contemporary society, so that Jesus is 'rescued' from the trappings of apocalyptic and placed within the parameters of modern existentially orientated eschatology. Thus neither the solution offered by Dodd's 'realized eschatology' nor, at the other end of the spectrum, the construct of the exponents of 'consistent eschatology' is entirely satisfactory. Both have perceived an important aspect of the tradition, but each has resolved the tension between the present and future Kingdom sayings by giving precedence to one group over the other. Moreover, both have formulated their theories on the basis of certain modern assumptions. On the one hand, 'realized eschatology' reconstructs an essentially modern Jesus, whose use of the language of apocalyptic was symbolic only, and for whom the presence of the Kingdom made the passing of time insignificant. 'Consistent eschatology', on the other hand, imputes to the early church the sort of crisis in eschatology and theology which modern scholars

10

Eschatology in the making

think it should have had, but which is not reflected in the documents themselves. I will now turn to the work of three more recent scholars who have found reason to question whether the early church underwent the sort of eschatological crisis proposed by the exponents of consistent eschatology. The first of these studies is by D. E. Aune, The Significance of the Delay of the Parousia for Early Christianity', the second is The Delay of the Parousia', by R. J. Bauckham, and the third is 'Christ and Time: Swiss or Mediterranean?', by B. J. Malina. After reviewing these studies, I will set out my own approach to the question of the development of eschatology in the early church. 2.

Three recent contributions to the debate

2.1 D. E. Aune. D. E. Aune's approach in his article The Significance of the Delay of the Parousia for Early Christianity' is shaped in part by his earlier comprehensive study The Cultic Setting of Realized Eschatology in Early Christianity. The thesis of this monograph was that 'at no time was the experience of salvation placed wholly in the future within the belief system of earliest Christianity',17 and this has led him to be sceptical of any scholarly attempts (such as A. Schweitzer's) to reconstruct the development of earliest Christianity solely on the basis of the non-occurrence of the expected experience of future salvation, namely the parousia. I will begin by outlining the most significant aspects of the argument of Aune's article, and then draw some directions from it for the present study. The aim of Aune's article is twofold: first of all, he sets out to question the theory that the delay of the parousia was a causal factor in the theological transformation of early Christianity; secondly, he offers some suggestions as to the structural and functional significance of the parousia hope in the first century of Christianity. He opens with an outline of the widely held model of the 'decline of eschatology' or 'de-eschatolization' in the first century, which postulates that primitive Palestinian Christianity was characterized by early fervent expectation, which fell away in the face of the passage of time and the expansion of Christianity 17

This summary is quoted in his article 'Significance', 105.

An imminent End? Models for eschatological development 11

into 'Roman Hellenism', and resulted in the lessening of the fervency and significance of the parousia hope. Despite the fact that Aune's study predates the widespread criticism to which the neat distinctions between 'primitive Palestinian' and 'Hellenistic' Christianity have been subjected,18 Aune already shows himself to be only partially convinced by the 'primitive Palestinian/Hellenistic' distinction.19 The second section of the article sets out four 'schools' of thought on the subject of the significance of the delay of the parousia. The first two are the consistent/thoroughgoing and the realized approaches outlined above. The latter two are Bultmann's form-critical/existential interpretation, which accepts the futurity of the Kingdom but emphasizes its existential aspect, and the approach of O. Cullmann and others which focusses on the perspective of salvation-history. This last approach, by emphasizing that the saving event has already occurred in Christ's crucifixion and resurrection, seeks to hold both the temporal and existential aspects of eschatology in tension. Aune himself is most sympathetic to the fourth 'school', and criticizes the others on the grounds of the extent to which theological interests have shaped them (though one might perhaps level this criticism at the 'salvation-history school' as well). Nevertheless, Aune recognizes that Bultmann in particular, as a historian, made some important observations: (i) that disappointment over the non-occurrence of the parousia did not take place everywhere at the same time; (ii) that the parousia was never, in the early period, expected to occur at afixeddate, and consequently; (iii) that adjustment to the continuing non-occurrence of the parousia never occurred in crises, but rather gradually.20 These observations are useful guidelines in formulating an approach to the implications of the non-occurence of the parousia. 18 19

20

E.g. Hengel, The 'Hellenization'of Judea. Cf. Aune's statement in 'Significance', 107-8: While it would be a falsification of the evidence to suggest that individualism w a s exclusively Hellenistic while the communal emphasis was exclusively Jewish (since Hellenism h a d penetrated Judaism beginning with Alexander's conquest of Palestine), nevertheless these two typologies of man-in-himself and man-in-community, and various combinations of the two, are helpful for analyzing the structure of early Christian religious thought, though necessarily divested of their supposed cultural loci. Aune, 'Significance', 9 1 - 2 , citing Bultmann's History and Eschatology, 51.

12

Eschatology in the making

In his third section, Aune accepts the argument of W. Thiising21 that imminent eschatological expectation characterized the outlook of earliest Palestinian Christianity. He then examines the question of how to define 'imminent expectation' (Naherwartung), and, in keeping with his preference for a 'salvation-history' interpretation, suggests that imminent expectation is 'comprised of two interrelated and essentially inseparable aspects, the quantitative (the temporal aspect) and the qualitative (the existential aspect)'.22 On the basis of a brief overview of Q and synoptic material, he concurs with Bultmann's observations, cited above, that as an exact date of the parousia was never specified, it was impossible for its nonoccurrence to become a critical problem.23 If the delay of the parousia had caused the sort of anxiety and disappointment that the thoroughgoing eschatology school sought, Aune considers the number of texts in early Christian literature in which the problem comes to expression to be remarkably few. Aune does, however, argue that the experience of sporadic persecution provoked periodic intensifications of the expectation of the parousia, and sees this as making any theory of a gradual and linear decline of the parousia hope problematic.24 He concludes this section with a further problem of the 'deeschatologization' paradigm, and one which he considers the most significant of all: 'there is no demonstrable causal relationship between the oscillating functional significance of the Parousia expectation on the one hand, and various changes and developments in early Christian life on the other'.25 Given the insights of comparative sociology, Aune considers that assigning such a major function to a single factor betrays a simplistic notion of sociocultural change. The dynamics of such change are sufficiently complex, he argues, that no one cognitive factor can be isolated as the sine qua non.26

The final section of his article seeks to ascertain the function of the parousia in early Christianity. In this section, the influence of his earlier monograph cited above is most apparent. The parousia hope represented full bestowal of salvation to early Palestinian Christianity, but that salvation was never perceived as being wholly future. Salvation was also experienced in the presence of 21

Thiising, 'Erhohungsvorstellung', 224-5.

23

Ibid., 98.

24

Ibid., 100.

25

22

Ibid., 101.

Aune, 'Significance', 96. 26

Ibid., 102.

An imminent End? Models for eschatological development 13

the Spirit and in cultic ritual at the individual and communal level. The balance between future and present aspects varied according to such factors as the exposure to Hellenistic religious thought and the experience of persecution. Aune ascribes the gradual diminution of emphasis on the parousia to the fact that it was functionally replaced by the conception of personal immortality upon death. Aune's article thus confirms Bornkamm's insight that the nonoccurrence of the parousia does not seem to have had the effect that the proponents of thoroughgoing eschatology expected. Aune rightly questions the model of linear 'de-eschatolization' and calls for a more nuanced, sociologically plausible analysis of the development of early Christian theology. Such an analysis would take into account not only the passing of time and the influence of Hellenistic religious thought, but more importantly the variety of settings of early Christianity, the diverse functions which the parousia hope served, and the role of persecution in heightening the imminence of expectation. Nevertheless, there are a number of criticisms that can be levelled at Aune's article. The most obvious vulnerability of the study is the brevity of his exegetical work, and his heavy reliance on others in the exegetical underpinning of his position. This is due in part to the constraints of journal-article length. Even so, this leaves him open to the criticism that he is, like his predecessors, imposing certain results on the material. Second, one cannot assume that the lack of a specific date for the parousia in the New Testament passages in question necessarily means that the effect of the non-occurrence of the parousia was negligible. By the time the Gospels were redacted, the non-occurrence of the parousia may have already been faced and, to a large extent, dealt with. The synoptic materials may only give us echoes of that process. Moreover, though Aune is right that no one factor can be seen as determining the whole development of early Christianity, this does not necessarily mean that, at some point in some communities, the delay of the parousia did not have an important effect. It will be necessary to bear Aune's positive contribution in mind, as well as these criticisms of his argument, in formulating the approach of the present study. I now move on to the second study, namely that of R. J. Bauckham.

14

Eschatology in the making 2.2 R. J. Bauckham

R. J. Bauckham, in his article entitled 'The Delay of the Parousia', recognizes that the problem of eschatological delay was not exclusively Christian, but was in some respects the same problem that had long confronted Jewish apocalyptic eschatology. While not denying that the problem of the delay of the parousia has distinctively Christian characteristics, he sets out to explore the largely neglected background of how Jewish apocalyptic tradition dealt with the issue of eschatological delay.27 The first section of the article sets out the problem of eschatological delay as 'one of the most important ingredients in the mixture of influences and circumstances which produced the apocalyptic movement'.28 Most apocalypses are conscious, at least to some degree, of the problem, in that the prophecies had so long remained unfulfilled, and yet maintain the conviction of their imminent fulfilment. The resulting tension, rather than leading to the discrediting of the hope or the lessening of the sense of imminence, was embraced within apocalyptic faith. Bauckham accounts for this by arguing that, alongside the theological factors which promoted the imminent expectation, there were also theological factors accounting for delay, and that these were held in paradoxical tension. A locus classicus for apocalyptic reflection on the problem of delay was Hab. 2:3, which appeals to the omnipotent sovereignty of God, who has determined the time of the End. From this was drawn the notion that apparent delay belongs to the purpose of God, and thus an appropriate response is both prayer that God should no longer delay and patient waiting while the sovereign God did delay. In this way, 'the tension was held within a structure of religious response which could contain it'.29 However, the problem of delay in apocalyptic is no ordinary problem of unfulfilled prophecy, according to Bauckham. Rather, it is the apocalyptic version of the problem of evil: the problem of God's righteousness in the face of the unrighteousness of the world. In their profound consciousness of the dimensions of the problem 27

28

Bauckham comments that 'it is remarkable that the school of "Consistent Eschatology" . . . seems not t o have asked how Jewish apocalyptic coped with the problem of delay', and cites Werner, Formation, in this regard. 'Delay', 4, n.3. 29 Bauckham, 'Delay', 4. Ibid., 7.

An imminent End? Models for eschatological development 15

of evil and its challenge to God's righteousness, the apocalyptic writers looked for the elimination of evil on a cosmic scale. The appeal to the sovereignty of God was in some instances supplemented by attempts to find some positive meaning in the delay. Such attempts are more evident in later Jewish apocalyptic, especially after the fall of Jerusalem in 70 CE. In this context, Bauckham makes some observations that are of particular significance for this study: I think that this fact [of later Jewish apocalyptic seeking positive meaning in the delay] must correspond to a certain intensification of the problem of delay in late first-century Judaism. This was not due to the mere continuing lapse of time: it is a mistake to suppose the problem of delay necessarily increases the longer the delay. The problem is intensified not by the mere lapse of time, but by the focusing of expectation on specific dates or events which fail to provide the expected fulfilment. In the case of Jewish apocalyptic, the Jewish wars of AD 66-70 and 132-135 were disappointments of the most extreme kind, for so far from being the onset of eschatological salvation, they proved to be unprecedented contradictions of all the apocalyptists had hoped for. Consequently the apocalyptic writers of the late first century are engaged in a fresh and agonizing exploration of the issues of eschatological theodicy. The imminent expectation seems if anything to be heightened, but it seems to require that on the other hand some meaning be found in the interval of delay.30 On this basis, Bauckham proceeds to examine four examples from the late first century CE in the second section of his study. I will pass over the first example, the rabbinic debates attributed to R. Eliezer and R. Joshua, noting only that the texts link the coming of redemption to Israel's repentance, which God's 'gracious chastisement' will bring about. The second example, the Apocalypse of Baruch (2 Apoc. Bar.), makes the traditional appeal to divine sovereignty, but also relates the delay to another characteristic of God, namely God's longsuffering. In 2 Apoc. Bar. 59:6, this longsuffering is portrayed as the quality by which God bears with sinners and refrains from intervening in judgement as soon as the 30

Ibid., 10.

16

Eschatology in the making

sinners' deeds deserve it. In Bauckham's view, this theme is not original to the author of this apocalypse, but represents a common strand in apocalyptic reflection, as indeed 4 Ezra 3:30; 7:33, 74 would suggest. God's mercy to the righteous who suffer, which will be expressed on the Day of the Lord, and which led the apocalypticist to trust in the imminence of judgement, is in tension with God's longsuffering, which restrains the expression of divine wrath and prolongs the delay. Both are aspects of God's character. There is, however, a positive aspect to the delay, namely that God's people are graciously granted the opportunity for repentance (2 Apoc. Bar. 44:2-15; 46:5-6; 77:2-10; 78:3-7; 83:1-8; 84:1-85:15). The fall of Jerusalem itself brings the End nearer, in that it is to precipitate a precondition of the End, namely the repentance of Israel (2 Apoc. Bar. 20:2). The latter two examples are drawn from the New Testament: 2 Peter 3 and the Apocalypse of John. 2 Peter 3 is shown to be a thoroughly Jewish treatment of the problem of delay, and Bauckham concludes that the arguments used here were well known in contemporary Jewish circles.31 In his discussion of Revelation, Bauckham does not accept that the problem of eschatological delay was less acute for the early church because of the element of realized eschatology in Christian thinking: If the victory over evil has already been won, it seems even more necessary that the actual eradication of evil from the world should follow very soon. The powers of evil loom large in the imagery of Revelation: the problems of theodicy which they pose are, in one sense, not alleviated but intensified by the faith that Christ has already conquered them.32 Bauckham considers the way in which, on the literary level, the imminent expectation of a final resolution is frustrated by the long 'parentheses', particularly those that precede the final seal and the final trumpet. It is in these parentheses that John's understanding of the meaning of the delay is to be found. Through martyrdom, Christian discipleship is linked to Jesus' own witness through the cross; the time of delay is the time of identification of Christians with their Lord, the time in which they are 'sealed on their 31

Ibid., 27.

32

Ibid., 29.

An imminent End? Models for eschatological development 17

foreheads'. The idea of God's longsuffering, God's restraint, is also present here; it is pictured in chapter 7 by the four angels holding back the four winds to prevent them from harming the earth. The final judgement cannot take place until this 'sealing on their foreheads' has occurred (Rev. 7:3). Thus the delay is in part for the sake of the church, so that the Lamb may be the leader of a vast new people drawn from every nation and sharing his victory through suffering. The other aspect of delay, as seen in the parenthesis between the sixth and seventh trumpets (10:1-11:13), is for the sake of the church's witness to the world; God does not simply inflict warning judgements upon sinners, but actively seeks them in the mission of the church. In Bauckham's view, then, John makes no attempt to resolve the tension of imminence and delay, but invites his readers to perceive the positive aspects of being part of Christ's suffering and mission. The strength of Bauckham's study is that it recognizes the real tension which confronted the early church as the expected parousia of Christ was delayed. He does not need to postulate that the delay was not a real issue within the early church, particularly given the heightened expectations that characterized the period of the Jewish War (and indeed, according to Bauckham, followed it). Instead, in tracing some of the resources that were available to the early church via the apocalyptic tradition, Bauckham plausibly accounts for the way in which writers, both Jewish and Christian, could continue to hold in tension both a conviction of eschatological imminence and consciousness of delay. Given the sort of theological resources available to the early church in Jewish apocalyptic tradition, the delay of the parousia did not cause the sort of crisis which the advocates of consistent or thoroughgoing eschatology sought. In this respect, Bauckham confirms Aune's position, though he does not share the conviction that the cultic and individual experience of present salvation was the primary factor in the avoidance of an eschatological 'crisis' over the delay of the parousia of Christ. It would of course be a mistake to assume that all Christian writers, or Jewish ones for that matter, took the apocalyptic approach of holding imminence and delay in tension (Bauckham himself does not imply that they did). At various times, such as when a community faced no external pressure, the tension may not have been felt keenly. In certain contexts, the tension between the

18

Eschatology in the making

expectation of future salvation and the present experience of salvation will have shifted in favour of one or the other. This seems to have been the case among at least some people at Corinth, whose consciousness of their present salvation resolved the tension, and prompted Paul to reiterate and stress the future aspect (cf. 1 Cor. 4:8-13). One need not accept Bauckham's exegetical results in every respect to recognize the usefulness of his approach. Although he does not define what he means by 'the apocalyptic movement',33 it is clear that he understands this as a broadly based phenomenon rather than a narrow sectarian one; its ideas crossed various social and religious boundaries in the first century CE and left its mark in the literature of Qumran, in the Tannaitic traditions and, of course, in early Christian literature. Bauckham's approach belongs to the stream of scholarship that examines the history of ideas. Concrete historical conclusions are at best hinted at. Although this study will devote greater attention to historical questions, Bauckham's article, which seeks to anchor the development of Christian eschatology firmly within its Jewish context, makes a worthwhile contribution to my own approach. I now turn to the third and final study which will be treated in detail in this context, namely that of B. J. Malina. 2.3 B. J. Malina In his article 'Christ and Time: Swiss or Mediterranean?', B. J. Malina points out that 'among the basic modalities of perception required for interpretation [of sacred writings], time perception is crucial for discovering the meaning of what people say and do'.34 His thesis is that the ancients were quite different from us in time perception, that circum-Baltic peoples were and are fundamentally different from circum-Mediterraneans, and that it is consequently the first-century Mediterranean appreciation of time that the interpreter of the New Testament must appropriate in order to understand issues of New Testament eschatology. Malina begins with the question of a society's time orientation, whether past, present or future. Time preference is seen when people are faced with a problem: do they turn initially to the past, the present or the future to find a solution to it? While mainstream 33

Ibid., 4.

34

Malina, 'Christ and Time', 2.

An imminent End? Models for eschatological development 19

middle-class America is future-orientated, Mediterranean societies of the first century, Malina asserts, were classical peasant societies, characterized by a temporal orientation towards the present as their primary preference, with past second and future third. This raises my first question: can one confidently assert that the documents of the New Testament reflect the mind-set of a classical peasant society, with its temporal orientation heavily biased towards the present? The 'cognitive map', to use Malina's term, of first-century Jews, whatever their social status, cultural bias and affiliation to a religious group, may have been more strongly attuned to the past than Malina allows; to identify oneself as a Jew was to identify oneself with the past, with the history of the Jewish nation and with the God whose past actions were the source for drawing implications for the present. Not only the Hebrew Scriptures but also the cult and the festivals must have reinforced the importance of looking towards the past for comprehending the present. If this is true forfirst-centuryJews, whether rural or urban, it must also have been an important influence on the early Christian movement. Malina adduces certain proverbs and sayings from the New Testament and related writings to support his thesis of present orientation. The first example is Tomorrow will be anxious for itself; 'Let the day's own trouble be sufficient for the day' (Matt. 6:34, RSV). However, the evidence of such proverbs is by no means unequivocal; while they may advocate present orientation, by implication they reflect an opposite tendency. In seeking to distinguish modern American and ancient Mediterranean time orientation from one another, Malina pushes the evidence to its limit: There surely is no expressed concern for the future in the Synoptic story line. And it would appear that the same holds for the entire NT since any time description consisting of this age and a rather proximate age to come has no room for a future of the sort we speak of.'35 The concern for the future in passages such as Mark 13 et par. may not be the same as that of modern America.36 However, the nature of the Gospels - as texts which are at once concerned with events of the past (the life of Jesus of 35 36

Ibid., 7. It would be interesting to pursue the question of the extent to which middle-class America's future orientation actually derives from its theological heritage. Does the modern Western shift towards existential eschatology relativize the future orientation?

20

Eschatology in the making

Nazareth), events of the present (the community's present experience) and events that are to take place before the advent of the age to come (persecution, mission) - does not allow me to endorse the statement that there is no expressed concern for the future in the synoptic story line. Malina concludes the first section of his article with the claim that the anxiety about a perceived delay of a parousia was only in the eyes of nineteenth-century northern European biblical scholars and their twentieth-century heirs, and that presumed future-orientated categories of the Bible are in fact present-orientated.37 In the lengthy second section of his article, Malina examines a number of models of time perception drawn from the fields of sociology, social anthropology and social psychology. The importance of this approach, in my view, lies in the fact that it requires scholars to become conscious of their own interpretative parameters, and of the possibility that these parameters may be inappropriate tools for the interpretation of ancient texts. I do not propose to set out the various models with their strengths and weaknesses in detail. Much of it is challenging and provocative, though open to debate. One important insight which should be mentioned is that the present was not conceived of as a quickly vanishing point in ancient societies, but rather covered a broad sweep. The present could be perceived as being of long duration, depending on the process or event involved.38 However, the present may not be experienced as continuous in times of crisis, such as war. Malina does not seem to take into account that experienced time can be based not simply upon procedures (agricultural or social), but may itself have political or ideological implications. While he acknowledges that procedures or processes may be cut short, he does not explore the possibility that time itself may be expected to be discontinuous,39 as it is in much apocalyptic literature. In such literature, a clear distinction between experienced time and imaginary time (past or future) was not made, for in that context imaginary time itself is experienced by the seer. To say that people perceived it as 'foolhardy in the extreme to make decisions for the world of experience on the basis of the imaginary and its past and/or future'40 simply goes beyond the evidence. 37 38 40

Malina, 'Christ and Time', 9. Ibid., 12, quoting Bordieu, 'Attitude', 59-60. Ibid., 16.

39

Ibid., 13.

An imminent End? Models for eschatological development 21

Malina's application of the various models to New Testament eschatology, section 3, is relatively brief. At this point he proposes that there was a shift within the early church from the perception of Jesus as forthcoming (still within the present time frame) to the perception of his coming as beyond the temporal horizon, in the imaginary future: Jesus was once perceived by present-orientated people as forthcoming Messiah with power. This perception of theirs was rooted in actual, experienced time situated in an operational realm abutting on the horizon of the present. However, given the press of events, this perception had subsequently proceeded beyond that horizon into the realm of the possible, of the future, rooted in imaginary time . . . this shift from forthcoming to future occurred during the period of Christian origins.41 This raises many more questions than it answers. First, to which events does Malina refer in his phrase 'given the press of events'? Second, is the supposed shift which he discerns from forthcoming to future not another way of postulating a reworking of eschatological expectations, such as scholars have long sought in the literature of the early church? Third, does not the literary evidence indicate that Jesus was understood by some as forthcoming Messiah with power within his earthly ministry, but that his death and resurrection necessitated a rethinking of the nature of the expectation? Andfinally,does Malina's proposal not bear a striking resemblance to Dodd's notion of the early church's 're-eschatolization' of Jesus, shifting him from present to future categories, though their respective methodologies and categories differ? Malina draws three conclusions from his study. First, there was no tension in the New Testament period between the 'now' and the 'not yet'; instead, the 'now' was understood as a broad sweep. Second, the New Testament authors and indeed Jesus himself were present-orientated; the future as the realm of the possible was held to be exclusively God's. Third, the role of the prophet, including Christian prophets, in a present-orientated society has to be rethought. Malina's study does not, in my opinion, do away with all, or even many, of the findings of New Testament scholarship which 41

Ibid.,2%.

22

Eschatology in the making

have been reached via the more traditional methodologies. However, it does require scholars who study the thought-world of ancient societies to consider that certain fundamental categories of perception, such as time, may have been perceived quite differently from the way in which they are today. In this way, scholars can more readily recognize the cultural categories which they bring to their task. Having considered a variety of scholarly positions on the development of eschatology in the early church, I am now in a position to outline my own approach. 3.

The approach adopted in this study

As stated in the introduction, the approach of this study is not to propose a model for interpreting the development in early Christian eschatological expectation and to test its validity against a number of passages. Rather, passages that can lay claim to constituting a 'progression' of early Christian eschatological traditions have been selected, namely Mark 13, Matthew 24 and Didache 16.42 To these I have prefixed a study of Matt. 25:1-13, which gives some access to eschatological reflection that took place well before the redaction of Matthew's Gospel. According to these texts, the widely accepted model of progressive 'de-eschatolization' due to the passing of time and disappointment at the delay of the parousia, as outlined above, fits the evidence at best only partially. I accept, together with the exponents of consistent eschatology and other scholars including Bultmann, Thiising, Aune and Bauckham, that the earliest years of the Christian movement were characterized by an imminent expectation of the parousia of Christ. Although, as Malina points out, the present was conceived of more broadly in the cultural context of the first century than it is today, nevertheless the challenge to the early Christian communities of the delay of the parousia was a real challenge. However, these communities found that they had certain resources to meet it. This challenge did not take place everywhere at the same time, and, 42

Such a claim can be made on the basis of the two-source hypothesis, which I accept for the purposes of this study. The question of the relationship of Didache 16 to Matthew's Gospel is discussed at some length at the beginning of chapter 6, and I consider that there are sufficient grounds to postulate that the Didache knew and used Matthew's Gospel.

An imminent End? Models for eschatological development 23

according to the evidence of my studies, it did not produce the sort of crisis which the proponents of consistent eschatology sought. While one can observe a drop in imminent eschatological expectation as a characteristic development, one can also observe the opposite tendency - a heightening of imminent expectation - at work. There seems to be a correlation between the experience of persecution and the heightening of expectation, which Aune and others have noted. Perhaps more surprisingly, a heightening of expectation is evident between the writing of Mark and Matthew; there seems to be a higher expectation of an imminent End some years after the destruction of Jerusalem (i.e. in Matthew's Gospel) than during or immediately following the crisis of the Jewish War itself (i.e. in Mark's Gospel). This would seem to confirm Bauckham's observations about the Jewish apocalypses written after the destruction of Jerusalem, which show a struggle with issues of eschatological theodicy. A third tendency is a shift in the function of the eschatological hope away from expectation of imminent fulfilment towards paraenesis. It cannot be said that any of the texts under scrutiny has completely abandoned the former for the latter, but in times of relative peace and security, such as is reflected in Didache 16, the paraenetic function of the eschatological hope becomes more prominent. The passing of time will thus be shown to be a relatively minor factor in shaping the developments in early Christian eschatology. Far more prominent are the factors affecting the particular communities themselves: the death of community members, stresses from within and without, and the community's attitude to the Jewish War and the destruction of Jerusalem. The cumulative effect of the studies is to highlight the complexity of the factors involved in the development of early Christian eschatology and the diversity of Christian responses.

MATTHEW 25:1-13 AS A WINDOW ON ESCHATOLOGICAL CHANGE

The parable of the ten maidens1 is of particular interest with regard to the development of eschatology because of the motif of the delay of the bridegroom. As the parable stands, it is unique to Matthew's Gospel, though verses 11-12 show affinity to the Q material of Luke 13:25-7/Matt. 7:21-3. In order to ascertain the significance of this pericope for the current study, it is necessary to examine it exegetically and determine the Sitz im Leben of the traditions it represents. This is particularly necessary given the history of research on the synoptic parables, which has often studied them only for the access they give to the historical Jesus. E. Linnemann is correct in saying that our task is not to 'regard what tradition has added to the parables as worthless wrapping material, which is thrown away as soon as we have unpacked the contents'.2 The parable presents the reader with a number of problems or surprises:3 (i) Lack of clarity as to where the ten maidens are as they wait for the bridegroom; do they fall asleep on the street? (ii) Lateness of the beginning of the wedding feast; (iii) The idea that the oil-sellers are open after midnight; 1

2 3

As there is no biological significance given to the term rcapGevoi in this passage, I have adopted the translation 'maiden' in preference to 'virgin'. Cf. Lambrecht, Treasure, 201. Gerhardsson argues in favour of a more specific term, brollopstdrnorna or 'wedding maidens', in 'Mashalen', 83. Linnemann, Parables, 46. That a parable confronts the hearer with a 'problem' or 'surprise' is not in question (cf. the work of Ricoeur who speaks of 'extravagance' and 'surprise' in relation to the parables: 'Hermeneutics', 114ff; cf. also Funk, Language, 158). The problematic or surprising elements to which they are referring are, however, integral to the metaphor of the plot. Ricoeur identifies the surprise of this parable with the act of 'slam[ming] the door on the frivolous maidens who do not consider the future (and who are, after all, as carefree as the lilies of the field)', 117. It is yet to be seen whether the surprising elements of this parable may be understood as integral to the plot or extraneous and therefore evidence of a complex redactional history.

24

Matthew 25:1-13 as a window on eschatological change

25

(iv) The harshness of the wise maidens towards the others in sending them off when they knew that the bridegroom was about to arrive; (v) The relevance of the motif of sleep, which has no apparent bearing on the wisdom or foolishness of the maidens, yet links with the conclusion in verse 13; (vi) Lack of mention of a bride.4 Related to these odd features of the narrative is the further issue of the meaning of A,an7i&8sr|c; by many Western, Latin, Syriac and middle Egyptian witnesses could be understood as an addition which redresses this lack.47 There is a difficulty associated with this explanation: the increasingly allegorical reading of parables within the early church speaks against the introduction of a figure which does not fit the symbolism. The church is symbolized in the Matthean version of the parable by the maidens (both the wise and the foolish ones - cf. the parable of the wheat and the tares, Matt. 13:24-30). Thus the attraction of another symbol - the church as the bride of Christ (cf. John 3:29) - into this context is not easily explicable. It is relevant to mention a proposal of Jeremias, namely that the maidens are in fact at the bride's place waiting for the arrival of the bridegroom who will escort the bride, in the company of her friends, to his father's house. 48 The lack of explicit mention of the bride can be accounted for in this way. Nevertheless, the explanation is not completely satisfactory, for if this were the case, one would expect to read ai 8xoi|ioi siaf|M)ov \IET auxdw eir|(; in verse 1. It seems that no explanation on the basis of social custom is totally convincing with regard to the lack of mention of the bride. A further question which was raised at the outset is the meaning of the term Xaiinabeq. In the essay by Jeremias just cited, it is convincingly argued that Xa\ina8E(; must be understood as 'torches', not as oil lamps, and Puig i Tarrech confirms this finding.49 As torches have a much shorter burning time, the problem of the sleeping maidens thus becomes even more acute. Jeremias therefore proposes that the maidens light the torches only after the cry comes, and that they do this by pouring more oil onto the oil-soaked rags wrapped around the end of the torches, and then setting them alight.50 This, then, is understood by Jeremias as the meaning of the verb Koa^ieco, namely in the sense of to 'enhance' or 'supplement' the oil which was already present. This may, however, be open to question. In Matt. 25:3-4, one reads that the foolish ones A,aPoCaai zaq Xa[ina8aq auxcov OOK £A,a(3ov 47 48 49

Cf. Metzger, Textual Commentary, 6 2 - 3 . Jeremias, 'AAMIIAAEI', 199-200. 50 Puig i Tarrech, Parabole, 210ff. Jeremias, 'AAMIIAAES', 200.

42

Eschatology in the making

sAxxiov, whereas the wise ones eA,a|5ov eXaiov sv xoT, verse 8). The word order of verse 8 also suggests such emphasis. Thus it seems that Matthew's redactional style did not as a rule prefer the reflexive to the possessive pronoun; it is noteworthy that this usage does not occur at all in the infancy narratives. This stylistic feature is peculiar to verses 1-4 and 7b-9 of Matthew 25, and does not occur in the 'episode intermediaire' nor in the final verses, which gives some support to the parameters of the reconstruction. Let us now turn our attention once again to the 'episode intermediaire', in order to take up the second question. 4.

Verses 5-7a: more than one interpolator, or a unity?

In posing this question, I am asking primarily whether there are grounds for considering these verses as both pre-Matthean and redactional, or whether the case is stronger that the cluster of eschatological motifs is to be understood as a unity. This issue has been treated at some length in relation to each motif, and the majority of evidence points to a pre-Matthean source. Only with regard to the verb eyeipeiv was there reason to attribute it to Matthew. Moreover, there are strong grounds for regarding verse 13, which speaks of yprjyopeTv, as redactional, as will be seen below. This lends support to the supposition that the eyeipeiv motif may be redactional. However, if the motifs are examined as a progression - delay, sleep, middle of the night, cry and summons, rising - it is difficult to regard the sleeping/waking as a foreign body. The function of the motifs is unequivocally allegorical, and the motifs as they stand present an allegorical portrayal which corresponds very closely in detail and chronology to early Christian eschatological expectation such as is implied by 1 Thess. 4. The church is aware of a delay; the expectation of a prompt return of the Lord has been disappointed. In the Thessalonian community there are some who have 'fallen asleep' (1 Thess. 4:13), but the interpolator in Matthew 25 envisages that all the maidens 'fall asleep'. This does not necessarily mean that all of the interpolator's community, or even all the older generation, must already have died at the time of writing, but rather that the 'falling asleep' has become one of the categories of eschatological expectation, along with the delay of the parousia.

46

Eschatology in the making

As shown above, there is no exact parallel for |iecrr|T£pov, though it may have its origins in Matthean Sondergut, is nevertheless a motif of which Matthew was fond (cf. 8:12, 22:13, 25:30), not in the sense that it was fascinating in its own right,57 but as a contrast to the joy of being in the presence of the Lord at the eschatological denouement (cf. Matt. 25:21, 23). Unlike Luke (e.g. Luke 12:41-8), Matthew does not envisage gradations in eschatological punishment; for this evangelist there will simply be two groups (though which people belong to these groups cannot be determined presently), and no rationalizations or negotiations will be of any use (cf. Matt. 7:21ff, 25:31-46). Thus the presence of a Q parallel to verses 10c-12 and the Matthean interests which its inclusion at this point betrays clearly indicate Matthean redaction at work. Verse 13 is a further addition which ties the parable to its context and makes explicit the paraenetic purpose of its inclusion. The motif of YpriyopeTv, which is presumably taken from Mark,58 is also introduced as an addition to Q material at Matt. 24:42-3. It is therefore a clear indication of the redactional interest of Matthew; the evangelist incorporated the parable of the ten maidens into the eschatological discourse because of its emphasis on preparedness, and because this preparedness was shown as necessary at all times. Thus the 'episode intermediate', which had already been incorporated into the parable, seemed additionally appropriate to Matthew's purpose, though, as previously demonstrated, it did not serve this purpose with absolute consistency. Verses 10c—13 are therefore to be understood as two Matthean

57 58

'Enderwartung', 222-60, in which Matthew's eschatological and ecclesiological interests are shown to be closely linked. A comparison of Matthew's Gospel with the later Apoc. Pet., demonstrates this most clearly. Mark 13:34—7. The interrelationship of these traditions, however, is complex, as has already been observed (note 28 above).

48

Eschatology in the making

addenda to the parable of the ten maidens, which had already been supplemented with verses 5-7a. I am now in a position to examine the 'episode intermediate', verses 5-7a of Matthew 25, in order to draw some conclusions as to the development of early Christian eschatology that they reflect. 6.

Matt. 25:5-7a and the development of early Christian eschatology

In studying Matt. 25:5-7a, one finds evidence that the delay of the parousia of Christ and the death of fellow Christians had been not only experienced, but also grappled with theologically by the author of these verses. What one is dealing with here, therefore, is the end result - the literary deposit - of a process of theological reflection. There is no direct access to the process itself. Nevertheless, the literary deposit allows certain inferences to be made as to the nature of that process. The first inference is an obvious one; the delay of the parousia and the death of Christians must have had a sufficient impact upon the community in which this formulation took shape to bring about a reworking of eschatological expectation. The literary deposit of this reworking gives us clues as to its nature. 6.1 Experienced delay (xpovi^ovxog 8s TOO I have already noted the specific, almost technical usage of the verb %povi£eiv in the documents of the New Testament, and the fact that its usage denotes an awareness that the actual eschatological Xpovoc; differed from the expected eschatological %povoc;. The options open to the community were to: (i) ignore the discrepancy; (ii) give up the expected eschatological xpovog; or (iii) account for the discrepancy.59 Option (iii) is the one adopted by the author of these verses. In order to account for the discrepancy, the author adopted the 59

For a sociological study of the behaviour of a group disappointed by its eschatological expectation, cf. Festinger et a/., When Prophecy Fails. Care must be taken, however, in drawing analogous conclusions about first-century eschatological behaviour, for the central tenet of faith for the early Christians was the death, resurrection and coming of the Lord, not a specific eschatological timetable.

Matthew 25:1-13 as a window on eschatological change

49

concept of delay. This concept recognized the actual xpovoq without detracting from the eschatological conviction that the one returning was sovereign, for the %povi£sw was an expression of the perspective of those waiting, not an objective theological category. How soon would this discrepancy between actual XP°V0£ a n d expected %povo(Duev. It is assumed that Ttacrai is more readily explicable as part of the pre-Matthean insertion than as a redactional addition, for it fits well with the other allegorical motifs. As has been discussed above, on the level of Matthean redaction, the Tiacrai runs contrary to the hortatory interest of the redactional additions, which seek to emphasize the need for wakefulness.

Matthew 25:1-13 as a window on eschatological change 53 6.3 The middle of the night (n£or|c; 8e VDKTOC;) This tradition expects the coming of the bridegroom in the middle of the night. The idea that this tradition is based upon an expectation of an Easter night parousia has been shown to be improbable, and an alternative theory of the origin of this phrase has been advanced above. If my theory is correct, then the preMatthean composer of these verses regarded the time of composition as being in the 'first watch', but was confident that the Lord was to return in the next watch, the midnight watch. Consequently, this pre-Matthean composer held an imminent expectation of the parousia, for it was at this next watch, and no later, that the Lord would come. This might, at face value, seem to be a contradiction; is it possible for a person to endorse the category of delay, as these verses do, and yet hold an imminent expectation of the return of Christ? R. J. Bauckham, whose article 'The Delay of the Parousia' I discussed at some length in the previous chapter, holds that this was quite a common phenomenon among those who maintained apocalyptic hopes. I have suggested that the concept of delay was adopted not as an objective theological category, but as a way of describing the perception of those who were waiting. If this is so, and the composer understood the delay descriptively rather than prescriptively, then it is quite conceivable that a conviction of an imminent parousia could be held simultaneously with the notion of delay. The delay was soon to be over, and yet, while it lasted, it was perceived no less as delay, for all that. The composer may have held this imminent expectation in the face of those among the community who had relinquished imminent expectation and could perceive only the delay. The passage offers hope in several ways: the delay of the parousia is a shared perception, but not cause for despair; the deaths of community members will lead to their rising again just as certainly as sleep is followed by waking; and the watch of the night is almost over, for the Lord will surely come at the next watch - at midnight. The other elements of Matt. 25:5-7a are motifs which depict the expected parousia. They yield only one further piece of information about the community in which this piece of tradition was formulated, namely that it shared these elements of eschatological expectation with other communities which are reflected in the writings of the New Testament. This means that these elements were both widespread and early, and that they must have been

54

Eschatology in the making

disseminated as part of the teaching which formed the foundation of early Christian communities. The tradition represented by Matt. 25:5-7a thus provides evidence of the way in which the deaths of community members confronted an early Christian community with a discrepancy between their eschatological expectation and their actual experience. This confrontation obliged the Matthean Sondergut community to face the issue of the delay of the parousia. The scholars who claim that this issue was a crucial one within the early church are therefore correct. However, they generally overlook the fact that by the time Matthew's Gospel was written, this was no longer a burning issue. In his assessment of the importance which Matthew gives to this issue, Puig i Tarrech is quite right in his comment, cited above, that the delay seems to be simply a framework or motif for Matthew rather than a problem which currently constrains the evangelist or the community for which the evangelist is writing.

MARK 13: ESCHATOLOGICAL EXPECTATION AND THE JEWISH WAR

In the history of New Testament interpretation in the last one hundred years, Mark 13 is one of the most carefully ploughed and reploughed fields. The farming implements have varied, the seasons have changed and the results have been correspondingly diverse. It has always seemed that if only the right methodology could be applied, the secrets of this chapter might be unlocked. There is at present an unprecedented variety of methodologies being applied to this material, ranging from the recent redaction-critical studies of J. Gnilka and R. Pesch, through the religio-historical analysis of E. Brandenburger, the socio-political analyses of H. C. Kee, W. Kelber, F. Belo, C. Myers and H. C. Waetjen, to the various literary approaches of N. R. Petersen, B. L. Mack, and M. A. Tolbert,1 to list only a few. Given such a variety of available approaches, it is crucial for this study that the methodologies applied and the order in which they are applied are both well-suited to the purpose of the study and self-critical. The purpose of this study is to examine the expectation of an imminent End in Mark 13; how imminent is the End, where does the evangelist consider the Markan community to be within the plotted time of Mark 13, and is this in contrast to the expectation of the community for whom the evangelist is writing? These questions are historical, but they raise the narrative-critical question of the implied reader and the wider questions of socio-political context. 1.

Methodological considerations

C. Breytenbach prefaced his monograph on Markan eschatology Nachfolge und Zukunftserwartung nach Markus. Eine methoden1

Gnilka, Markus; Pesch, Markusevangelium; Brandenburger, Markus 13; Kee, Community; Kelber, Kingdom; Belo, Materialist Reading; Myers, Strong Man; Waetjen, Power; Petersen, Criticism; Mack, Myth; Tolbert, Sowing the Gospel.

55

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Eschatology in the making

kritische Studie - with a detailed study of the history of interpretation of Mark's Gospel. His work is a useful point of departure, because it combines both a newer literary approach upholding the unity of the text with a continued interest in the historical questions, which are indispensable to the aim of this study. I will begin by taking account of some methodological issues which Breytenbach raises, and then proceed to an examination of the text of Mark 13. In the context of considering the contribution of W. Wrede, Breytenbach observes that in Markan research, despite Wrede's approach of dealing with the Gospel as a unified whole, literary and historical questions are still constantly mixed. Breytenbach then points out that drawing an early distinction between tradition and redaction hinders the treatment of the text as a unified whole.2 Breytenbach is correct in claiming that a study which moves uncritically between literary and historical questions may unduly influence its own results. To draw an example of this from the study of Mark 13, at what point does the exegete decide where the evangelist considers himself/herself to be within the chronology? Does the exegete consider the literary level as a whole, and only then move to historical questions, or does he or she make the connection between Mark and the narrative early on and proceed on that basis? Breytenbach's methodological consideration recommends the former procedure, in order to avoid losing sight of the text as a whole and, one may add, in order to avoid biasing the historical picture that results. Both methods no doubt involve some sort of hermeneutical circle, but the former leaves open the question of a historical referent longer, and is therefore likely to weigh the possibilities more even-handedly.3 I will take up Breytenbach's 2 3

Breytenbach, Nachfolge, 18. It is puzzling, in the light of this, that Breytenbach's own analysis of Mark 13 begins by taking a position on the historical locus of Mark and his community. This is not simply a summary of the conclusions that will be reached via the ensuing analysis, but actually part of the analysis itself: 'Da die Situation der markinischen Gemeinde in V. 9-13 und 33-37 besonders deutlich wird, wird man sich auf diese Teile konzentrieren mussen' (284). When he comes to the analysis of verses 9-13, we read: 'Hier wird die Situation der Gemeinde selbst angesprochen, wahrend sonst (5b-8.14-22) von der Zeit und den Umstanden, in denen sie mit vielen anderen leben wird, die Rede ist' (292). While it may well be true that the situation of the Markan community is reflected in Mark 13:9-13, it is dangerous to assume from the outset that the community concerns are more clearly expressed in these verses than elsewhere in the chapter. Similarly, verses 33-7 do to some extent reflect the situation of the

Mark 13: eschatological expectation and the Jewish War 57 recommendation that the literary questions be dealt with before the historical ones. A further aspect of Breytenbach's comments made in the context of his discussion of W. Wrede is that the separation of tradition and redaction should not precede the interpretation of the text. Not only is the unity of the text at stake, but more profoundly the theological conception of the evangelist. Breytenbach puts this issue clearly on the agenda later in his study: It is questionable whether only the redaction of the evangelist reflects his theological attitude. Nor is it sufficient to add the sum of redaction and tradition together. By means of his redactional-compositional approach, Mark has created a new text, made new contexts of meaning, and put the tradition in a new light. The result of this is more than the sum of redaction and tradition.4 This presents a challenge to grapple with both tradition and redaction as somehow 'redactionaP. This is not, however, to leave the question of tradition aside altogether as irrelevant. For a study that endeavours to draw any historical conclusions from the text, the evangelist's use of tradition continues to be a critical question. This is particularly significant for Mark 13, given the prominence of the theory of the incorporation of an earlier apocalypse into this chapter.5 So this study of Mark 13 will begin with a literary examination of the chapter and its context within the Gospel, then move to the question of tradition and redaction. Only then will the historical questions of Sitz im Leben be raised. Text-critical questions have been dealt with in some detail in a recent study by K. D. Dyer,6 and his results support the Nestle-Aland text (26/27th edns) in every respect; it is this text which will therefore be used.7

4 5

6 7

Markan community, but perhaps in the first instance the interests of the evangelist; this allows some reconstruction of the situation in which he was writing. If one were to base a reconstruction of the Markan community primarily on verses 33-7, one might postulate a situation in which the community was losing interest or hope in the promised parousia. Such a postulate needs to be balanced against other indications within the chapter. Breytenbach, Nachfolge, 32 (translation mine). A. Collins, in 'Eschatological Discourse', has critiqued the 'Little Apocalypse' theories as an endeavour to 'save' Jesus or the evangelist from eschatology, by assigning much of this material to Jewish tradition. Dyer, 'Reader', 20-33. No changes have been made to the text in the 27th edition.

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Eschatology in the making

As Norman Perrin pointed out in an article reflecting on appropriate methods for the study and interpretation of the synoptic Gospels,8 literary criticism of the Gospels and Acts must include a concern both for their composition and structure, and for protagonists and plot. Both these concerns will be explored in relation to Mark 13, considering the text both in its narrative sequence and thematically. 2.

Indispensable within the narrative framework: a literary examination of Mark 13 in context

Mark 13 opens with a scene that has strong thematic links to the preceding chapters of Mark. The first of these is a theme which has been constantly in view since chapter 11, namely the question of Jesus' relationship to the Temple and Jewish authorities. Mark's careful intercalation of Jesus' prophetic actions concerning the fig tree and Temple (11:12-25) has already prefigured the fate of the Temple and its authorities, as has the parable of the wicked tenants (12:1-12). In 13:1-2 this fate is made explicit by Mark's Jesus (hereafter to be referred to simply as Jesus). This fate is sealed both verbally and dramatically, as Jesus 'quits' the Temple. The immediate context of the chapter (12:38-44) compounds the ominous tone of Jesus' dealings with the Temple, giving a strong indictment of reliance on external appearances.9 It is by these very appearances that the disciple is dazzled in 13:1. This points to the second thematic link: that of the misunderstanding of the disciples. As R. C. Tannehill has pointed out, the early positive portrayal of the disciples shifts in the three boat scenes (4:35-41, 6:45-52, 8:13-21), highlighting the disciples' fear and lack of understanding.10 From the confession at Caesarea Philippi onwards, the lack of understanding begins to take on specific dimensions: a desire for status and domination which is incompatible with the way of the cross. The three passion predictions (8:31, 9:31, 10:33-4) are the occasions for conflict between Jesus and his disciples as to the way of the cross and the way of discipleship. These conflict situations then become, in each case, the occasion for teaching 8 9 10

Perrin, 'Evangelist as Author', 5-18. For a convincing reading of 12:41-4 as a critique of the Jewish authorities, cf. Geddert, Watchwords, 134-8. Tannehill, 'Disciples', 386-405.

Mark 13: eschatological expectation and the Jewish War 59 which sets out to break the perceived nexus between status/domination and true greatness by means of paradox: 'For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.' (8:35) 'Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all'(9:35b) 6

. . . whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all'. (10:43b-44) In the light of these teachings, the exclamation of the unnamed disciple in 13:1 about the 'stones' and 'buildings' highlights the disciples' continued incomprehension. Not only has the disciple failed to comprehend the import of Jesus' conflict with the Temple and its authorities, but he has misunderstood that true greatness lies not with externals, but with taking up one's cross and following Jesus on the way. Though the disciple addresses Jesus as 'Teacher', he has not comprehended his teaching.11 Jesus' reply immediately picks up this lack of comprehension: P^STieic; TGIOTGK; xaq jxsydXac; oiKo5o|id(;; T. J. Geddert has convincingly argued that the verb PXSTCCO, as it is used in Mark's Gospel, goes beyond simply the physical act of seeing and implies discernment.12 In Mark 13:2, then, Jesus' reply immediately highlights the incomprehension of the disciple, who 'seeing' does not 'see' (cf. 4:12). So the opening scene of Mark 13 at once sets what is to follow in the context of the preceding Temple conflict and functions as a climax to it, making explicit what until then had been implicit in Jesus' actions and words. Moreover, it carries the motif of the disciples' misunderstanding further, showing that for all the teaching the disciples have received, it is still only external greatness that they comprehend. There is a further aspect to this opening scene: it raises expectations within the implied reader. The buildings are undeniably great. 11

12

This form of address in Mark's Gospel is used ironically by Jesus' opponents (12:14, 19). At other times it denotes only a partial understanding. Only in 14:14, where Jesus uses it of himself, is it possible that the title has a more positive sense, akin to the verbal form. It is of course possible that, within the context of the Gospel, this self-reference functions ironically. Geddert, Watchwords, 81-7.

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Eschatology in the making

They have provoked an exclamation of wonder, and their external greatness is not denied by Jesus. It is the contrast between this greatness, this seeming immutability, and the utterness of the destruction which Jesus predicts that raises the expectation that it could be none other than God who could effect this destruction, who could bring this great edifice to nothing. The passive constructions strengthen this impression, as does the double use of 06 \ir\: 06 |if| &(J)e8f] d>5s AiBoc; erci M6ov 6c; 06 jif| KaxaX,u0f). It is therefore in the context of this expectation that it will be none other than God at work in this destruction that the whole of the following discourse proceeds. The disciples' questions in verse 4 strengthen the readers' expectation that further teaching about the nature of this destruction will follow. This accompanies the reader through the discourse and beyond, yet it is nowhere explicitly taken up again by Jesus, neither at verse 14, which makes no mention of destruction, nor at any other point in the Gospel narrative. In a form which the narrator stresses is distorted (cf. 14:56-7, 59), the saying forms the basis for the accusations of verse 58. Both these accusations and the taunts of 15:29 invite the readers to align themselves consciously with Jesus' perspective, that the utter destruction of the Temple will indeed take place, and that it will be God's doing. 13 The saying of 13:2 and the subsequent dramatic positioning of the protagonists opposite the Temple (verse 3) demonstrate that the Temple is disqualified as the locus of God's presence. Though the reader's expectation of further clarification is raised, this expectation is deliberately disappointed. By disappointing the reader in this way, the evangelist underlines both the finality of this disqualification and the sovereignty of Jesus' word. In this disappointment, the readers are pushed to perceive the world as no longer templecentred. Rather, their perspective must shift to all nations (cf. verse 10), and indeed to the whole cosmos (cf. verse 31:6 o6pav6A)Y|ia zr\V iepa>v TljXCOV KaTG$-D<Jlv).

Shortly after this, Ananus addresses the crowds: How wonderful it would have been if I had died before seeing the house of God full of countless abominations (TOCJODTOK; ayem KaTay£|iovTa) and its unapproachable, sacred precincts crowded with those whose hands are red with blood! (J.W., IV. 163).

The Judean oracle and the Pella flight tradition

129

To Josephus, who was himself a member of one of the ruling families that were displaced by the Zealot appointment of Phanias, son of Samuel, this action constituted a shocking sacrilege. In Josephus' view, this appointment was a device for consolidating the Zealot power, for rendering the people more submissive and for ensuring that the high priests were under the control of those who had put them there. On the other hand, something of the Zealot perspective is apparent in this account. For them, it returned the system of high-priestly appointments to what it had been prior to the Hasmonean dynasty, and separated the political seat of power from the cultic one. The Zealots presumably saw themselves as restoring the Temple cult, which had been compromised by the Hasmonean accrual of kingly and high-priestly power. In effect, the 'restoration' stripped the high-priestly role of its political power. It was this that the Zealots intended, and it was this that Josephus decried. In installing their own appointed high priest, the Zealots upset what had been an uneasy balance of power between the ruling conservative high-priestly families and the radical nationalists. The installation of Phanias, though he himself was politically insignificant, constituted a key shift in the balance of power. It is this shift, I propose, that is reflected in the Judean oracle.44 The reference to TO p5sX,uy|xa xfjc; epruacbasoc; standing where he should not be is, as I have pointed out, a cryptic reference to a man who begins a process of standing where he should not be. Every indication is that this is a cultic reference, and that the place is the Temple, or more specifically, the Sanctuary. The installation of Phanias was the point at which the balance of power shifted in such a way that the former acceptable diversity of political opinion was replaced by a political situation in which the nationalists' viewpoint was dominant. From this point onwards, those who did not share their convictions were increasingly at risk. Much of Josephus' account describes the increasing tyranny which the nationalists exercised over the inhabitants of Jerusalem, as in the following passage: 44

Sowers, in his important article 'Circumstances', 318-19, suggested Phanni jic) as the possible referent behind the abomination (Mark 13:14), but he did not explore the possibility in detail. In the late nineteenth century, Pfleiderer proposed that to pSe^uyua xf\q Epnucbaeccx; could refer to the desecration of the Temple by the Zealots ('Komposition'), though he saw this as deriving from a Jewish Flugblatt. He subsequently took a different position (Urchristentum), 380.

130

Eschatology in the making there was no section of the people for whose destruction they did not invent an excuse. Those with whom any of them had quarrelled had long ago been put away; those who had not collided with them in peacetime were subjected to carefully chosen accusations: if a man never came near them at all, he was suspected of arrogance; if he approached them boldly, of contempt; if he was obsequious, of conspiracy. (/. W., IV.363-4)

Against this background, the position of the Jewish Christians was becoming untenable. There are certain indications within the New Testament that the (Jewish) Christians of Jerusalem were an identifiable group with a regular meeting place within the Temple precincts, namely in Solomon's Portico. The reference in Acts 5:12-13 to Solomon's Portico as a meeting place of the church, along with Acts 3:11 and the reference in John 10:22-3 to Jesus' choice of these porticoes as a meeting place, lends weight to the notion that the Jewish Christians of Jerusalem were an identifiable group which congregated in Solomon's Portico and which had not felt it necessary to conceal their allegiance to the crucified Messiah. If, as I assume, the majority of Jewish Christians shared a passivist stance which went back to Jesus himself, this would have rendered them particularly unpopular with the Zealots, who sought to make the population take up arms.45 The rise of the Zealots to power must have been observed by all the inhabitants of Jerusalem. The uncertain factor, however, was whether the Zealots and their supporters would succeed in wresting power from the high-priestly families; if this took place, then all restraints upon the Zealots would be swept away. It was in this situation of uncertainty, I suggest, that the Judean oracle was formulated. It accounts for the cryptic formulation, which could be interpreted as referring to the Romans. It accounts for the reference to the cult, and for the man beginning to stand where he should not be. It accounts for the injunction to flight being coined in Maccabean terms, as the reference was thus sufficiently ambiguous to allow it to imply a call to a Maccabean-style resistance against foreign powers. It also accounts for the urgency which this installation triggers, for the Zealots would lose no time in further consolidating their power once the restraints had been removed. 45

Contra Brandon, Fall. See esp. 87, 121.

The Judean oracle and the Pella flight tradition

131

To claim that the installation of a puppet high priest lies behind the phrase TO p5eA,i)y|ia xfjg epruicbaeco^ is not to assert that Phanias himself was viewed as 'the antichrist'. As mentioned previously, I am of the opinion that a fully fledged notion of 'the antichrist' was a later development.46 Rather, at the stage when the Judean oracle was formulated, the puppet high priest had not yet been chosen. It wasn't until the puppet high priest was chosen by lot from the clan of Eniachin, as quoted above, that the oracle came into effect. The offence of his installation for the Jewish Christians of Jerusalem did not lie primarily in his person, which was, as all could see, harmless enough, but in the political shift that it represented. By his installation, the Zealots both proclaimed and consolidated their power. It was this power, in the Jewish Christians' view as well as in that of Josephus, which not only violated the Sanctuary directly because of its blood-shedding and impious actions, but also destroyed the universality of the Temple by ensuring that the Jewish diversity over which the Temple had presided was now outlawed. This rendered the Temple desolate. The phrase 7tpoaei3x£-i)yna Tfjc; spruicbaeax;. The use of Josephus in this reconstruction was devised independently of Breytenbach, but agrees in many respects with his interpretation.48 I am of the opinion that it is the most convincing explanation of the historical background to the material found in Mark 13:14ff. I have argued that there was indeed a flight of Jewish Christians from Jerusalem in the winter of 67 CE. I have also argued that the Pella flight tradition did not originate with Eusebius nor with Epiphanius, and that Epiphanius' sources included a source other than Eusebius and Eusebius' source. These traditions associate the flight both with Pella specifically, and with Perea more generally. This information, combined with the fact that Mark and his community gained early access to the Judean oracle, permits me to postulate that a single unified flight to Pella was a piece of systematizing fiction behind which a true historical kernel is evident. There was indeed an exodus of at least a considerable number of Jewish Christians from Jerusalem; some of those who escaped went to Pella, some to other localities in Perea, and some north to Syria. The remembrance of the flight was preserved because it was regarded as a concrete and miraculous instance of God's mercy to the Christians of Jerusalem, but this remembrance took various forms. In the synoptic tradition it was preserved as a version of the oracle itself, with no mention made of destination. In the tradition which reached Eusebius, presumably via Hegesippus, the remembrance was preserved in the form of a report, which included the detail of the Pella destination. Epiphanius' source (possibly Tertullian or Hippolytus) included the more accurate reminiscence that 48

Breytenbach, Nachfolge, 314-15. Breytenbach identifies the desecration of the Temple as stemming from the Zealots' actions, but does not associate the installation of Phanias with a power shift, as I have done. Breytenbach also differs from the position I have argued in that he attributes the formulation of Mark 13:14ff to the evangelist, rather than to a Judean oracle.

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Eschatology in the making

Pella was not the only destination of the fleeing Jewish Christians by mentioning the region of Perea. Thus the synoptic flight oracle (the Judean oracle) and the Pella flight tradition permit a glimpse of the way in which a historical event gave rise to a variety of traditions. This historical scenario, as set out in my doctoral dissertation, has been favourably discussed by J. Murphy O'Connor in his recent article The Cenacle - Topographical Setting for Acts 2:44-45' cited above. Despite his defence of Ariston as the source of Eusebius,49 he finds it 'a most plausible Sitz im Leben for the oracle'.50 49

50

Cf. esp. note 13 above with regard to the difficulties of claiming Ariston as Eusebius' source. T h e view which favours Hegesippus is n o t fraught with these difficulties. M u r p h y O ' C o n n o r ' s continuing claim that Epiphanius is dependent on Eusebius alone is n o t justified in the face of the above arguments. M u r p h y - O ' C o n n o r , 'Cenacle', 317.

MATTHEW 24: ESCHATOLOGICAL EXPECTATION AFTER THE JEWISH WAR

Let us now turn our attention to the eschatological discourse in Matthew's Gospel, of which one section (Matt. 25:1-13) has already been examined. The primary focus of this chapter will be upon the material that has direct parallels to Mark 13, as it provides the opportunity to examine the distinctive redactional and compositional techniques by which the evangelist appropriated and reshaped the Markan discourse. It is necessary to give attention first of all to the wider context in which this material is situated. All scholars who accept Markan priority note that Matthew has significantly extended the eschatological discourse vis-a-vis the Markan source. J. Dupont notes that Matthew's last great discourse is almost three times as long as Mark's and Luke's, comprising ninety-four verses, as opposed to Mark's thirty-three and Luke's twenty-nine.1 The contrast between Matthew's eschatological discourse and those of Mark and Luke is even more striking when one considers that Dupont's reckoning only takes Matthew 24 and 25 into consideration, for there are weighty reasons for including chapter 23 as integral to Matthew's conception of this final discourse. I will therefore begin by considering the question of the status of Matthew 23; is it to be understood as the opening of the eschatological discourse, or rather as a separate discourse in its own right? 1.

Is Matthew 23 part of the eschatological discourse?

In J. Gnilka's opinion, the evangelist Matthew has clearly indicated that Matthew 23 and Matthew 24-5 are separate discourses by giving each a distinct audience and narrative setting (23:1 - disciples 1

Dupont, Trois Apocalypses, 49.

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and people; 24:1-3 - only the disciples).2 He then proceeds to give an overview of the narrative audiences of the various discourses. However, Gnilka does not give sufficient weight to the fact that in the parable discourse of Matthew 13, a similar shift in both audience and scene takes place: TOTS ac^eig Touq 5%A,oi)vTcodvvoi) xoo Ba7ixiaxoi) scoc; apxi. It is true that Pid^ofxai generally has negative overtones, as one would expect of a term that means 'to occupy a territory by force', for the territory is clearly not welcoming its occupiers. The Beelzebul controversy in chapter 12 makes it clear that the 'territory' which is being occupied is not welcoming its 'occupation', According to this interpretation, this saying could be translated as follows: From the days of John the Baptist until now the Kingdom of Heaven has been occupying enemy territory [bursting in] and the occupiers [i.e. the people through whom this occupying takes place, the disciples] claim it for themselves [perhaps like R. Akiba claimed it, or took it upon himself]. In this way, the above interpretation may clarify Matthew's use of this Q saying. Against the background of these reflections about the prominence of eschatology in Matthew's Gospel, and about the way in which eschatology and ethics are inextricably interwoven, let us now turn to an examination of Matthew 24. 21

BAGD cites Appian, The Civil War, 3, 24 no. 91 as an example of this usage.

Matthew 24: eschatology after the Jewish War 5.

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Matthew 24: is there a chronological sequence?

Of particular interest to an examination of Matt. 24:4-31 is the question of chronology: how did the evangelist understand the sequence of events portrayed in these verses, and at what point did the evangelist consider the Matthean community to be? Many exegetes have recognized that the chronology of Matthew 24 presents difficulties; verses 9-13 apparently reflect the current situation of the Matthean community, several years after the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem.22 In the following section, verses 15ff, Matthew includes the Markan prophecy of the Temple's destruction and of the ensuing tribulation, and, most intriguingly, the evangelist then binds this period of tribulation more closely to the End (verses 29ff) by the addition of e60ecox)(3cb6r|CTav ai f||aspai SKSivai, OUK dv 8crcb9r| Tc&cra adp^' 5id 5e xoix; eicA-cicxoix; KOA,OPcoBfjaovxai ai fjjiepai SKsTvai. Mark 13:20 icai ei |if| EKOAXSPCOCTSV Kopioc; xdc^ f|}i8pa(;, ODK av 8G"(O0T| 7cdaa adpi;* bXka 5id xoo dyico. Given this tendency to 'correct' and make more explicit, the phrase f| (J)uyf] 6|ICGV may simply be such a clarification, intended to specify that the prayer was not about the circumstances of the installation of the P5s>-i)y|aa TfjTcoi) ev xf] PacnXeia auxou.

Luke 9:27 Aiyco 8s u^iv aXr\Q(bq, sicriv xivsc; xo5v aoxou SCJXT|K6XCOV Ol OU |if]

ysucTcovxai Bavdxoo ecoq av I8(DCTIV

xf]v PacnA,siav xf]v PaaiXsiav xoo 6sou xou 0soO. sXriXuGmav ev 8i)vdfisi.

If one begins by looking at Mark, one finds the claim that some of those present would not taste death until they saw the Kingdom of God having come in power. Mark has followed this claim with the account of the transfiguration, which leads many scholars to see this as the intended referent. Luke abbreviates at this point so that the reference is simply to the 'Kingdom of God'. Although Luke does not do away with the future aspect of the Kingdom, the emphasis is given to the presence of the Kingdom in Jesus' own preaching and presence and subsequently in the work of the disciples. It is only Matthew who heightens this logion with a specific reference to the parousia of the Son of Man. It is logical to assume Matthew did so because this evangelist understood Mark in this sense and believed it to be the case. This is not to claim that Matthew was not an heir to certain traditions which recognized a delay in the parousia - the study of Matt. 25:1-13 has shown that this was indeed the case. Nevertheless, the evangelist did not see this as the central issue facing the Matthean community. Rather,

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the experience of tribulation, particularly within the community, confirmed for Matthew that they were living in the last days. Could Matthew's Gospel have a heightened expectation of the parousia if it were really written later than Mark's? Some will seek to solve this conundrum by means of an alternative-source hypothesis, such as the Griesbach hypothesis. However, my position is that the models that have been used for reconstructing the development of eschatology need revision. If Matthew's Gospel shows a more heightened expectation of the parousia than Mark's and yet was written later than Mark, it calls into question the form-critical assumption which dates the relative age of certain sayings according to the imminence of their eschatological expectation. In my opinion, the fact that Matthew displays a more imminent expectation of the End than Mark does not negate the validity of the twosource hypothesis as the best working hypothesis for the explication of synoptic relations, but rather calls for a more nuanced understanding of the factors governing eschatological expectation and for a greater appreciation of the diversity of early Christianity. The diversity of early Christianity is best grasped against the background of the diversity of Judaism, even post-70 CE. I will conclude this chapter by comparing some of the Jewish apocalyptic responses to the destruction of Jerusalem with the response of Matthew as reflected in the eschatological discourse. 11.

Matthew compared with other Jewish apocalyptic responses to the Jewish War

Some scholarly attention has already been devoted to a comparison of Jewish apocalyptic responses to the fall of Jerusalem,56 and this present contribution cannot attempt to deal with the subject comprehensively. Rather, I will limit myself to the material which affords opportunity to compare and contrast Matthew with contemporary Jewish apocalyptic writings. The four apocalypses which address the problems created by the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple are 4 Ezra, 2 Apoc. Bar., the Apocalypse of Abraham (Apoc. Ab.) and 3 Apoc. Bar. The literary relationship between these works, which is particularly 56

Cf. Stone, 'Reactions', also Fourth Ezra, esp. 35ff. A comparative study which includes Matthew is found in Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature, 277-309. For further references, see Nickelsburg's bibliography, 307ff.

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close between 4 Ezra and 2 Apoc. Bar., cannot be dealt with here.57 Each of these works seeks to deal with the question of theodicy: why has a just God allowed sinful Gentiles to prevail against the covenant people and to destroy the Temple? At the time of the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE, these issues were by no means new; the Babylonian exile had similarly raised them. The answers given during the Second Temple period maintained that the justice of God was evident in these events, and linked Israel's suffering to Israel's sin. The profound effect that the destruction of the First Temple had is reflected in the way the Jewish writers sought to recount, examine and evaluate the events of the past in order to find a basis for understanding the present.58 It is therefore not surprising that three of the four apocalypses arefictitiouslyset against the background of the first destruction. Each of the apocalypses links the destruction of the Temple to the sins of the people. 2 Apoc. Bar. opens with God's announcement that the city will be destroyed because of the people's sin. 3 Apoc. Bar., too, in chapter 16, depicts God as loosing wrath upon the people because of their sin. In the Apoc. Ab., God permits the destruction of Jerusalem and the burning of the Temple as punishment for cultic abominations (chapter 27), and thus gives more specific content to the nature of the sin for which Israel, in this apocalyptic seer's opinion, was being punished. It is, however, 4 Ezra which gives the most comprehensive reflections upon the question of Israel's sin. In this work, the seer 'Ezra' is not content with the explanation of the justice of Israel's punishment, for it is due, at least in part, to the burden of 'an evil heart' which God has not removed (3:20-7). For Ezra, this is a universal problem of humanity, but most acute in the case of Israel, for it has not allowed God's chosen people to bear the fruit of the Torah. Moreover, Ezra does not see in what way God's justice is expressed in the desolation of Israel, for 'the deeds of Babylon', if weighed in the balance, would be shown to be far more iniquitous (3:28-36). Thus each of the apocalypses allows the question of God's justice to be, at least in part, answered by reference to Israel's sin. In the case of 4 Ezra, the initial response to Ezra's misgivings about God's justice is that God's deeper wisdom necessarily eludes those who are 57 58

For a discussion of this issue, cf. Stone, Fourth Ezra, 3 9 - 4 0 , 4 1 - 2 . Cf. Stone, 'Reactions', 196, who cites Ackroyd, Exile, 63-102.

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tainted by the corrupt world (4:10-12). This is more like salt in the wound to Ezra than comfort, yet it asserts that despite all appearances, God's justice is at work and has not failed. An interrelated issue of theodicy is the question of God's covenant relationship with Israel and the issue of God's holy name. How can God allow the covenant people to be trampled underfoot, and thus bring the holy name into disrepute before the Gentiles? The reproach before their victors is that their God is no god, namely one who has no power to save (cf. 2 Apoc. Bar 21:21ff, 3 Apoc. Bar. 1:2, Apoc. Ab., esp. chapters 27-9, and most eloquently, 4 Ezra 4:22-5, 5:21-30, 6:55-9). If one examines Matthew for comparable concerns, one is not disappointed. While it is true that Matthew does not offer the sort of extended laments which are found in the apocalypses, the issues of theodicy which they raise - God's justice, Israel's sin, what has become of God's relationship with the covenant people and the reproach before the Gentiles - are all addressed. I do not therefore share the opinion of Nickelsburg that Matthew does not write 'with an eye towards the problem of theodicy, as do all the contemporary apocalyptists in their own ways'.59 In opening the eschatological discourse with chapter 23, Matthew at once affirms the importance of Moses' seat and the ongoing pre-eminence of the Torah, while at the same time making clear that the scribes and Pharisees60 are disqualified in their leadership of God's people. According to Matthew 23, it is due to their own sin and hypocrisy - which has repercussions not only on the individual but also on the community level (verses 4, 13) - that the culmination had to be the desolation of their house (verse 38). Matthew maintains that God's covenant relationship with Israel is expressed in the way in which God has constantly sought them (Matt. 23:34, 21:33-43, and in the depiction of Jesus' mission to the lost sheep of the house of Israel). Indeed, the whole Gospel sets out to show the way in which Israel has been sought, and the way in which it progressively turns away. Matthew seeks to show that it is in the face of this turning away, constantly repeated, that God justly punishes Israel for its sin. Matthew does not consider God's relationship with the covenant people cut off and offered instead to the Gentiles, though some 59 60

Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature, 304. I acknowledge Orton's distinctions between various scribes, as set out in Scribe. Here it is apparent that the scribes of the Pharisees are in view.

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might read Matt. 21:41 this way. The vineyard - rather than the tenants - represents the covenant relationship; the tenants are those who administer it. Matthew does view the Jewish leadership as unfit for this administration, and the transfer is to those who will produce the fruits of the Kingdom of God (21:43). Against the wider background of this Gospel, this refers to those who practise the 'better righteousness' (5:20), referring thus to Christians, Jewish and Gentile, though not all qualify (7:21ff).61 The reproach before the Gentiles is thus forestalled, for the Gentiles themselves, at least in part, are drawn into God's wider plan (Matt. 2:1-12, 27:54, etc.). Even the frustrating reply given to Ezra about God's deeper wisdom has a counterpart in Matthew, in the Matthean notion of 'understanding' discussed above. Unlike in 4 Ezra, where the issue of understanding exacerbated rather than relieved the questions of theodicy, in Matthew 11:25-6 the effect is indeed to offer comfort, as the reader by implication shares in this deeper wisdom. These reflections are offered in order to show that Matthew was by no means writing in a vacuum. The Jewish apocalyptic answers, in addressing the pressing issues of their day, vary in the way they deal with questions of theodicy. Similarly Matthew, in addressing the issues which were pressing for the Jews of the post-70 period, offers a distinctive Jewish theological response. The implications of the destruction were, in Matthew's case, much more mixed than they were for the authors of the apocalypses in question. There is lament over the destruction of Jerusalem in the Gospel (cf. 23:37), and yet it has caused the evangelist to dwell in such a way upon Jewish sin that a vindication of Christ could be seen in the destruction. Read through the lenses of subsequently triumphalist Christian responses to the destruction of the Temple, this might imply an anti-Jewish and pro-Gentile perspective. However, although Gentiles are countenanced and are part of God's eschatological schema, Matthew's response is a Jewish response.62 In that sense, Gentile Christians cannot simply appropriate it and level it back at Jews, as has often been done throughout history. Rather, one must respect and not misuse the fact that each Jewish response acknowledged a role which Jewish sin had played; each struggled to find God's justice and covenant faithfulness through this most 61 62

On the issue of the nature of the new covenant people, cf. Stanton's discussion of the title of his book A Gospel for a New People, 10-12. Cf. Segal, 'Voice'.

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devastating of events - the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple. If Matthew did indeed adapt Mark 13 to the Matthean community situation by means of a literary technique using two chronological sequences, as I have argued, this was a remarkable scribal achievement. It means that the evangelist adopted a literary solution to the problem of how to adapt the Markan text, and a solution that was both conservative of the traditions and flexible in their application. It is also a solution that reflects some familiarity and facility with techniques known and used by apocalyptic streams within Judaism. My findings support the study of D. E. Orton which situates Matthew squarely in the tradition of the apocalyptic scribes, and calls for a new recognition and appreciation of the 'quasi-prophetic creative authority of the insightful scribe'.63 63

Orton, Scribe, 175.

DIDACHE 16 AS A DEVELOPMENT IN CHRISTIAN ESCHATOLOGY

As the final aspect of this study, let us now turn our attention to the eschatological traditions preserved in the last section of the Didache, chapter 16. In examining this material, I hope to be able to gain some clues as to the factors influencing the development of eschatology in the early church. The passage in question reads as follows: xf\q ^cofjc; ujacov oi A,u%voi 6|acov \ir\ Kai ai 6a(|)i3sv (Did. 16:1a) tends to be interpreted individualistically by scholars,24 but when one considers the concern of verse 2, it more probably refers to the common life of the communities.25 This impression is strengthened by the plural of the imperative and pronoun. The threat to the communal life is also of central interest to Matthew, 24

25

E.g. Niederwimmer, Didache, 256: ' D o c h ist ypriyopEiTE weep Tfj-i)y|aa ifj^ epruicbaecoc;, and so this once again represents a congruence in structure between the Didache and Matthew. Up to this point, the order of Didache 16 and that of Matthew 24 have been strikingly similar. At this point, however, although there continue to be parallels between the texts, the order no longer fully corresponds. If one were to assume that the individual antichrist figure had accrued the characteristics of the third Matthean reference to false christs and false prophets, obviating the need for them, the order of point (v) below still corresponds to the Matthean order. Points (v) and (vi) refer to a period of great tribulation, and

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point (vii) to endurance in the face of it; these correspond in a general way to the Matthean period of great tribulation and the need to endure, though the order of the parallel sayings does not correspond. (iv) (v)

The world deceiver is to perform signs and wonders, just as the false christs and false prophets of Matt. 24:24 are described as doing. The wanton or lawless acts (aQe\iua) which he will commit are described in a way that resembles the Matthean description of the great tribulation in conception though not in wording: Did. 16:4-5 reads Kai rcoifjaei d08|iixa, a ysyovsv e£ ai&voq. Matt. 24:21 reads serial yap TOTE GHVJ/K; \ieyakr\ oi'a oo ysyovsv &7i'&pxfte KOOJIOI) sax; TOO VUV OUS' OU |if| ysvr|xai.

(vi)

(vii)

Did. 16:5 proceeds to describe further tribulation, and the way many will fall away in the face of it. Although there is no parallel to Did. 16:5a in Matthew, the description of falling away, Did. 16:5b, is paralleled by Matt. 24:10a. Did. 16:5c refers to those who endure in their faith being saved, as does Matt. 24:13 (as well as Matt. 10:22b).

After this point, the order of the two texts once again resumes its congruence. (viii)

Did. 16:6 begins the denouement of the eschatological drama with the reference to the signs of truth. The obvious interest that the Didache shows in the nature of the signs is, in my opinion, a significant link to Matthew 24. The reference to the sign of the Son of Man in heaven in Matt. 24:30 should be understood as a redactional addition by Matthew to the Markan Vorlage in order to give a more explicit reply than Mark does to the disciples' question about signs. In my opinion, the Didache's interest in signs at this point gives a strong indication that the Didachist was familiar with Matthew 24, and was not simply using a pre-Matthean source. In elaborating and explicating the signs of truth at this point, the Didachist is developing the Matthean reference, as Matthew had already developed the Markan discourse.

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(ix)

On a literal reading of Matt. 24:30-1, the sign of the Son of Man in heaven and the coming of the Son of Man on the clouds of heaven appear to be two distinct events, with the first preceding the second. As set out in the previous Chapter, I do not understand this redactional reworking of the Markan Vorlage to mean two distinct events. However, the Didache splits the two events, first by referring to the crr||i8iov eKTcex&crsax; ev oopavcp (16:6a) and then by referring to the Lord's coming on the clouds of heaven (16:8a.b): xoxe 6v|/8xai 6 KO<J\IO(; TOV Kupiov ep^ojievov 67C&VG0 xcav v8(()sX©v TOO oupavoi). In my opinion, this also points to the interpretative use that the Didache made of Matt. 24:30-1, for this splitting of the sign and the coming would otherwise be too great a coincidence. (x) In Did. 16:6c.d, the signs of the trumpet and the resurrection of the dead herald the coming of the Lord, Did. 16:8, whereas in Matt. 24:31, the loud trumpet call and the gathering in of the elect from the four winds follow the reference to the Son of Man coming with power and great glory. Although the order is different at this point, it is possible to see how the gathering of the elect from the four winds could be interpreted as the resurrection of the saints, by analogy to Ezekiel's vision of the dry bones: Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live' (Ezek. 37:9). (xi) Did. 16:8 states that 'the world will see the Lord coming'. This corresponds to the tribes of the earth mourning at the revelation of the Son of Man (Matt. 24:30), though the polemical edge of expected vindication in Matthew is not prominent in the Didache. 'The clouds of heaven' is a direct parallel between them.

The result of the above analysis is that the evidence from the structure/internal logic of Didache 16 is not nearly as clear-cut as Kohler implies. Rather, at certain points, it is difficult to account for the structure of Didache 16 except by reference to the Didachist's knowledge and use of Matthew 24. These points include the shared opening reference to false prophets who seek to lead the people astray, the interest in signs at that point in the material, and the splitting of the sign of the Son of Man and his coming. For these reasons, I do not accept Kohler's first stated

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reason for rejecting Didache 16's use of Matthew. Let us now turn to his second reason, which can be addressed more briefly. 5.

'The Didache contains many traditions which have no synoptic parallel'

Didache 16 certainly seems to have drawn on traditions other than those found in the synoptic Gospels. The three most striking appear to be: (i) the world deceiver, into whose hands the earth will be given and who will commit lawless acts; (ii) the concept that the human world will enter a trial by fire; (iii) the three signs of truth, most particularly the first and third of these. However, as has been shown in the preceding discussion, there is reason to believe that two of these three traditions - (i) and (ii) may in fact be later extrapolations and developments of the synoptic material. With reference to (iii), the antichrist figure, the synoptic references to the pSeXuyixa xf\c, eprincbaeax;, when supplemented by interpretations of Daniel, the lawless watchers of the Enoch tradition (cf. 1 Enoch 7:2-6, where the watchers bear the name 'the lawless ones') and also the Nero redivivus myth,26 seem to have prompted the development of expectation of an individual personification of evil who masquerades as God's representative. This figure, who is distinct from Satan (cf. 2 Thess. 2:1-12), parodies a number of the features attributed to Christ. The Traditionsgeschichte of this figure, as reflected in the Johannine epistles, seems to be bound up with the rise of schism and heresy.27 With reference to (iii), the three signs of truth, I have shown that it is difficult to postulate that the first and third of them could have arisen independently of the distinctive redactional features of Matt. 24:30-1. Moreover, it is incumbent upon those who maintain that Matthew and the Didache drew on a common source for their parallel material to consider whether, had Matthew had access to 26 27

Cf. Hengel, 'Origin and Situation', 2 5 - 7 . Cf. Forsyth, Enemy, esp. chapters 14.6 and 17.1. This important work explores, from a literary perspective, the development, variations and reinterpretations that the myths of evil underwent in the literature of the ancient Near East, Judaism and Christianity.

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the other traditions, such as those above, the evangelist would have excluded them. This has not, to my knowledge, been addressed by those who maintain the theory of a common source. Those who maintain this theory must at least consider the possibility that the common source reached Matthew and the Didache in forms which already exhibited notable variations. In my opinion, although one may be able to account plausibly for the parallels between Didache 16 and Matthew's Gospel this way, it gives too much weight to a series of source-critical hypotheses. Only tradition (ii), the trial by fire, can be claimed with some certainty to have no clear synoptic parallel. Although Matthew has a greater interest in eschatological fire than do Mark and Luke, it is primarily portrayed as the fire of Gehenna, into which evildoers will be thrown at the close of the age (cf. 3:10, 12; 5:22; 7:19; 13:40, 42, 50; 18:8, 9; 25:41). Only Matt. 3:11, auxog u ^ PaTrciaei 8V 7tvei>naTi dy{cp Kai Tcopi, drawn from Q, has the notion that the faithful will be subject to fire. This saying may preserve a tradition of a fiery testing, presumably eschatological in nature, to which all will be subjected, but it is clear that the Didache did not draw 16:5a from here. Nevertheless, it is unnecessary to postulate a special source for this tradition, given its wide currency in Jewish and Christian texts (cf. Prov. 17:3; Wis. 3:6; 1 Cor. 3:13; 1 Pet. 1:7, and its prominence in T. Ab. 12-13 and T. Isa. 5:21-25). In the light of these considerations, the three most striking traditions which have no direct parallel in the synoptic Gospels do not require one to reject the theory that Didache 16 knew and used the Gospel of Matthew. Rather, it seems to me that even these traditions can be well explained by the assumption that Didache 16 made direct use of Matthew's Gospel, elaborating and supplementing it in certain ways. I am therefore of the opinion that Didache 16fitsKohler's category of'certainly possible', because: (i) an analysis of the wording gives a balance of 'certainly possible' and 'possible'; (ii) the similarity to other passages is less than to Matthew; and (iii) the wording of the passage, including its deviations from Matthew, seems to assume this usage. On the basis of this last consideration in particular, I would rate the relationship as 'probable'. The preceding discussion serves to show that the influence of one

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text upon another is not limited to direct literary dependence. Although other types of influence are much more difficult to demonstrate, an appreciation of the variety of uses to which a text, particularly an authoritative text, can be put is essential in the study of the relationship between Gospels and other early Christian writings. I am now in a position, on the basis of the preceding discussion, to examine Didache 16 as a later development within early Christian eschatology which drew upon, at least, the Gospel of Matthew. 6.

Didache 16 as a further development in early Christian eschatology

If the Didachist did know and make use of the Gospel of Matthew, the way in which this use was made is qualitatively different from the sort of use apparent in synoptic relations. A summary statement of Kohler's which he gives at the conclusion of his study is illustrative of the type of use to which the Gospels were put in the post-apostolic era: 'The greatest possible freedom vis-a-vis the "text", while maintaining a close connection with the Lord - this was the way in which to apply the written Gospel material to oneself and to one's present situation in the time prior to Irenaeus.' 28 Didache 16, like other Christian writings from this era, shows a remarkable freedom to rearrange, interpret and omit material drawn from Matthew 24 and elsewhere in the Gospel, as well as the freedom to supplement it from other sources. This seems to be an indication that the function of this chapter, and indeed of the Didache as a whole, was in no way to supplant the written Gospel material. Unlike the way in which Matthew and Luke drew on Mark and Q, which was characterized by a certain comprehensiveness which made the constant use of those earlier texts unnecessary, the Didache does not aspire to comprehensiveness. Rather, its very selectivity presupposes the continued use of the Gospel, and implies that its function was to serve as an adjunct. H. R. Seeliger's article on Didache 16 entitled 'Erwagungen zu Hintergrund und Zweck des apokalyptischen Schlusskapitels der Didache' gives some confirmation to this theory on form-critical grounds. He argues that we are not dealing here with an apocalyse 28

Kohler, Rezeption, 536 (translation mine).

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as such, as it lacks a narrative framework. Rather, we seem to be dealing with a summary and elaboration of apocalyptic revelation that has already been given.29 Seeliger's thesis is that this chapter seeks to record and uphold an important aspect of the (true) prophets' proclamation (cf. Did. 11:7) over against the teaching of the false prophets, not least for those communities which have no prophet (cf. Did. 13:4). He thus considers Didache 16 to be an 'Aide-memoire apokalyptischer Theologie'. 30 This is an interesting theory which well reflects the apparently dependent nature of the Didache 16 material, though without reference to the sources of the apocalyptic theology. In order to be able to evaluate Seeliger's theory and the type of developments this chapter reflects, let us once again turn to the text of Didache 16, this time with a view to assessing its interests vis-avis those of Matthew's Gospel. The chapter opens with the call ypriyopetxe weep xfjc; Ccofjg UJICOV, 16:1a. In Matthew's Gospel, ypriyopsco is used without an object being specified, as the appropriate attitude towards the impending eschatological events (cf. Matt. 24:42, 25:13). As in the Gospel of Mark, the narrative of Gethsemane in Matthew illustrates what it is to watch, or fail to watch (Matt. 26:38, 40, 41), as does the parabolic saying of the householder and the thief (Matt. 24:43). In Did. 16:1, the nature of the watching has shifted away from the constant expectation and readiness for the imminent End towards the protection and upbuilding of 'their life', which, as stated above, most probably refers to their communal life. Such a shift away from Naherwartung towards a concern about community issues is what scholars have often sought to attribute to the passing of time, but in the light of this study as a whole, one may say that it also reflects the fact that the communities of the Didache were no longer directly pressured by the events surrounding the fall of Jerusalem and its aftermath, nor experiencing a period of persecution. O. Giordano also observes that these events are not reflected in the Didache in his article 'L'escatologia nella Didache9, but he takes it as evidence of early composition.31 Those who maintain the very early dating of the Didache have not reckoned with the fact that though the language of Didache 16 may be similar to that of the 29 31

30 Seeliger, 'Erwagungen', 187. Ibid., 192. Giordano, 'L'escatologia', 129-30. Giordano shares this view with the early study by Sabatier, AIAAXH TQN IB AIIOXTOAQN, 146.

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synoptic tradition (e.g. ypr|yopeixe), the meaning has shifted away from high eschatological expectation to concerns of maintaining community life. A second point of comparison between Didache 16 and Matthew's Gospel is their respective understandings of their own position in relation to the 'last days'. As I have sought to demonstrate in the previous chapter, Matthew understood the Matthean community to be living in the last days, which were characterized by false prophets and disintegration of community life. In Did. 16:3 one reads of the last days in the future tense: 'for, in the last days, false prophets and corrupters will be multiplied (7tA,r|0i)v0r|CTOVTai), and the sheep will be turned (orpa(j)r|